Guerilla Estrogen

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If ones to fight, how much pride shall be exhaled with a nude chest?
Crunch of petty ground pebbles,
Eyes of code red estrogen
If to fight, how hard do I lose cursing like a chaos chorus?
Will reflection show to take the blow?
Will abyssal night take flight?
On the shows remembrance, do I falter down on knees?
Say in please, don’t mark my visage?
In heated quarrel of slaps and grins, will I ever be the same again?
How will I remain clean?
when the next round takes flight, in the valor of the night?





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