In The Face Of Death.
Contributed by
Thivanka
on
Saturday, 10th April 2004 @ 11:22:47 AM in AEST
Topic:
Event
|
In the face of death.
Forehead draped with sweat,
Eyes an ebony pool,
Shaking before his present threat,
Stood like an idle stool.
Unerringly aimed, a pistol,
Placed on his forehead with sweat,
Sweat trickled down, like fragments of crystal,
Before this insidious threat.
The trigger inches away,
Bullets clattered in lust,
Never for a moment swayed,
For against his gun, he had trust.
Rattle, rattle, his legs rattle,
Rattling in the face of death,
How on earth can death be tackled,
When it worked in utter stealth?
‘Finger on the trigger,
Is your pity divine?
If so, let it not shatter,
Now is the time to shine’!
‘Why spare a man so evil?
When he sits with death,
His crimes prick, like a jab from a needle,
Let not depravity win this match’!
‘Bang’, the bullet is free,
He is three feet off the ground,
Hauling him down, like a colossal tree,
Round, round and round.
Numb on the floor,
With a bullet in his head,
Never will he ask for more,
For now, he is already dead.
Copyright ©
Thivanka
... [
2004-04-10 11:22:47]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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