Who wouldn’t slam the door on my new ventures;
You allowed me to explore a pasteur brimming with blood.
Instructing me that there are those whose souls beg for release.
With cobalt, blue eyes and pale countenance,
You bribe me with dollars for my hours serving you
And you expect me to pay attention to
Deadly arts meant to keep me alive.
Yet I do.
It is from fear that I want to absorb power from you
I fear I won’t become you.
(Poem inspired by Bangkok Dangerous)
Copyright© 2010, E.J. Smith