The Sage of a Human Life.

Out from ruins, pain is here
within my side, i feel a sear,
tender skin, rips away
revealing organs, made of clay,

I walk on, through battled ground
I kill men, whom stand astound'
impervious body, made of stone
it makes me different, all alone.

From behind, i seek the kill
move out men, this is no drill
silently i lurk toward you
silence broken by very few.

Standing there with arrogence,
grapled from behind then hence,
modern tech, helps no one
I'm a clay man, few can stun.

With my weapons, hands and feet,
a terrible slaughter, none can beat,
before the second, neck broken,
the white cloth now, blood soaken'.

The battle rages, on and on
all glory, too the kahn,
I'm a soldier, time bereft
waiting, patient, instilling death.

My body breaks at piercing shots
purblind abstinence, I robots,
terror streaks on wings and horse
terror streaks through charles mourse.

the signals done, the code is through
the telegraph panel's choken blue
the signals cramp in tiny lines,
the message reads, and he finds:

In the darkness, time bereft,
battle rages, on my cleft
pimples raging, pussing death,
ridicule spouts, it's nearly theft.
But one more, will do without
his sodas, snacks, he will pout
he showers lightly every month,
but his small chin, it takes the brunt.

Within a crevice, zits arise,
leading to his timed demise
working sweat, mirroring
there goes one, POP, and a sting.

The scope zooms out,
and there it's in
it's Tyler Lindstroms, tiny chin.