You sneak around in the shadow of my thoughts-
Tip toeing ever so silently-
With those A grade military boots-
Shiny axe in hand.
Sensing a flicker of my creativity–
A devious smile upon a hollow face.
Heavy footed-
Squashing my sense of self.
No words escape.
Webs of vowels-
Attempt to save.
A heartless swing of your heavy axe
Beheading-
A–E–I–O–U….ever so effortlessly. 
You think you’re triumphant-
With those muddy boots and rusty axe in hand
Fool! I will show you triumphant.