Throwing stones

 Throwing stones at the opposition
chaos that rich excitement
That drills addrenaline
distributing it to the organs

I searched for the right shape of stone
the ones that would fit my hand
come boosting out just right
with twice the accurace

And speed my foe couldn´t duck
That satisfying crack as it hits the head
sending them back into their turf
behind their silly barriers

The odd colored one almost jade or marble
Leaves my hand toward the crowd
I regret it simultaneously 
wanting to pocket the stone for my own

I hide in the long grass waiting for the next unfortunate interloper
The stone fitting perfectly into my hand as I grope it