Saw the sun loathing in its heat
The sound of guns, the drum roll beats
The people around me still, too scared to speak
A sudden panic filled me amidst the silence
My attacker's stare was cold and his dark eyes so violent
we were two soldiers in opposal yet one man against another
I saw a smile creep up against his cheeks
Stared at the bloody palms; an gory tale of past brutality
The price of bravery is not cheap; the pain it brings runs still deep
My killer placed the heavy metal to my heartbeat
By convention we call it a gun, a war man's weapon-but to me just a valiant tool for the weak.
The first bullet was to be the last because I had perished many times before this confrontation
Dying repeatedly in the subtle agony of my disappointment
For here I was at the face of despair and worse than anything I was dowsed with worry
The tear drop fell slowly and my last thoughts were;
courage is a myth, for at the last all we feel is fear.
Duby .
