Come bellowing out of the night,
Restful grey eyes, of future ignorance,
A bullet from an orange gun,
Whose mission is to end, and nothing else,
Who feels betrayed by blowing wind,
Who rushes to doom, with deadly passion,
Who craves high speeds, the cool damp air,
The white lines blur, leaving streaks of red hair.

An eerie calm, that doesn’t last,
The time hasn’t stopped, just our exposed hearts,
The screams are held down in my throat,
At least for now, while I gather myself,
A closer look shows, I’m all alone,
A celebration, too cruelly ended,
Burns a bitter imagine of pain,
Something from which I shall not recover.

05/07/2007

Author's Note: Dedicated to the survivor

Posted on 05/07/2007
Copyright © 2024 Danny Washington