We dance a wicked dance. <br />Spining, ducking, weaveing. <br />We are parters of the same flag. <br />We survive it all, I watch your back, you watch mine. <br />Slicing, blocking, tradeing. <br />Such is the way of a fighter. <br />We train. <br />We fight. <br />We live to fight again. <br />We love. <br />We die. <br />Such is a fighters life. <br />One day, we got the idea in our head, to runaway. <br />For time immeasureable, we were peaceful. <br />But our former allies found us. <br />And the waltz of flesh and steel, the slow dance of carage, the Bloody Salsa continued. <br />Until the day we die, but we have each other still. <br />And so the Bloody Salsa is at least continued with reason. <br />And with this blood restful on my hands, I hold your face. <br />My equal, my rival. <br />My hope, my love. <br />My hero, my friend. <br />My conspirator. <br />My fallen comrade. <br />I get up, let loose what life I have left. <br />Obliterating all those who stood against us. <br />Killing me in the process. <br />And so the the eternally repeated dance called the Bloody Salsa is finally ended. <br /> <br />Ashlay, continue your fight to survive babe, I come for you soon… <br /><br />Adrian Cordova<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bloody-salsa/
