Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
Death draws
at the beat of her clock-
but time won't pause.
Sharp things whistle
through the air:
bladed missiles-
and desperate prayers.
She is a weapon
forged from metal,
a force to reckon,
shattering mettle.
Her accomplice,
extension of will,
shoots out like a comet
seeking to kill.
Why do they break,
as shockwaves command
the earth to shake
and sound to disband?
Her methods savage,
unfeeling, mechanical-
figures ravaged,
torn apart like animals.
On a corpse-strewn floor
she pirouettes,
and on blood and gore
her body is whet.
The ball protects
her crimson frame,
as a voice projects-
"This is a fun game."
Cover art by rika_dono on DeviantArt