Mission logistics escaped their cerebrum prison, civilian killing program’s military forbade
I lived long enough to execute survivalist tactics, abandonment issues with the basics
Irony details the plastic handle, five-limb weapon extension, and reinforced Juxtaposition blade
Two-face, a portrait Charlie has already painted, a clean slate needs my blood to stain it
I keep the sun under my helmet and the moon on a belt clip, and Love’s picture in a distant promise
SafeReturns forgot Hope. Stealth fighting ComeBacks won’t even blip a symbol detect
Death Guerrilla hand-gripped dagger, Fear grips blood-thirsty projectiles, sweet Kamikaze conscience
My pistol breathes Death. I throw stones and drop bombs just to compare ripple effects
A sleeping cadaver in a bag, military unit mass grave slumbers found underground pincushions
Remove some and lose one, let’s use God’s life-taking techniques with an upward thrust
Fear equilibrium nights, dagger-owner’s throat betrayal slice; Reality took my dream and Sin shook him
NeverLeave friends, and NeverEnd loves; nothing to lose Poker: no hand and a poor bluff
Tree canopy jungle entrapment, Satan’s ritualistic patrons surrounding, unseen shadows play tricks
Irony villager innocence statement, last resort action: unsheathe fear, let my wrist feel the blade’s kiss