Post by silverflame on Oct 27, 2005 19:23:24 GMT -5
Note: This poem is based on a dream I had some time ago. I wrote it for an assignment and haven't had many comments for it yet. Please enjoy.
Tears for a Killer
We run from a killer.
One no one has seen
And lived to tell.
I run with my brother.
I run with a friend.
I can’t tell them my secret.
I can’t let them hear what I know.
We hide in a warehouse.
Large windows,
Aisles filled with supplies.
Many others have joined us.
We sit in front of a window.
We talk about nothing.
We talk about the danger that’s coming.
A car drives up,
Black.
Like a car used by the mafia.
I know who it is.
I tell everyone to hide.
But I stand and watch him climb out.
His sister helps him,
I now see he isn’t complete.
He is blind.
He carries a gun.
I watch him aim.
I feel the bullets swim past me
Through air that feels too thick.
He comes so close
But doesn’t hit me.
I hide.
I can’t let them know.
He comes in,
Firing in every direction.
I hear cries from those who are hit.
I hear four have fallen.
“Give me the last of those forbidden,”
He yells to us.
“And I’ll go away.”
He sounds so sure
He’ll get what he wants.
But I know he’ll kill anyone.
He believes he is right.
He won’t stop.
Can I risk my brother?
My best friend?
I leave my hiding place.
“I’m one of the ones you want,”
I say calmly.
“Kill me and let the others go.”
I don’t know everyone he’s after.
He argues with me.
He thinks killing us all
Will end his nightmares.
“Let me be the last,”
I plead,
“Those left will take care of the bodies.”
He seems to consider this.
He aims the gun at me.
I know it’s the end.
I walk closer to him.
I feel the gun under my chin.
I close my eyes.
Please, God, let it be quick.
Don’t let me suffer.
I hear a deep voice
Whispering in my mind.
“The soul is a fire,
“My how yours burns.”
Something isn’t right.
I can’t feel the gun.
I open my eyes.
He isn’t there.
He’s outside.
His sister is talking to him.
I can’t hear what they are saying.
I can’t even hear
What everyone around me is saying.
They are blocking my view.
I can’t see what’s going on.
I hear a gunshot.
I hear a woman’s screams.
At last, they move.
He’s lying on the ground.
His sister is crying over his still body.
Was I the cause?
Did he kill himself because of me?
I feel tears float down my cheeks.
I have one last thought.
“I couldn’t save him.”
Tears for a Killer
We run from a killer.
One no one has seen
And lived to tell.
I run with my brother.
I run with a friend.
I can’t tell them my secret.
I can’t let them hear what I know.
We hide in a warehouse.
Large windows,
Aisles filled with supplies.
Many others have joined us.
We sit in front of a window.
We talk about nothing.
We talk about the danger that’s coming.
A car drives up,
Black.
Like a car used by the mafia.
I know who it is.
I tell everyone to hide.
But I stand and watch him climb out.
His sister helps him,
I now see he isn’t complete.
He is blind.
He carries a gun.
I watch him aim.
I feel the bullets swim past me
Through air that feels too thick.
He comes so close
But doesn’t hit me.
I hide.
I can’t let them know.
He comes in,
Firing in every direction.
I hear cries from those who are hit.
I hear four have fallen.
“Give me the last of those forbidden,”
He yells to us.
“And I’ll go away.”
He sounds so sure
He’ll get what he wants.
But I know he’ll kill anyone.
He believes he is right.
He won’t stop.
Can I risk my brother?
My best friend?
I leave my hiding place.
“I’m one of the ones you want,”
I say calmly.
“Kill me and let the others go.”
I don’t know everyone he’s after.
He argues with me.
He thinks killing us all
Will end his nightmares.
“Let me be the last,”
I plead,
“Those left will take care of the bodies.”
He seems to consider this.
He aims the gun at me.
I know it’s the end.
I walk closer to him.
I feel the gun under my chin.
I close my eyes.
Please, God, let it be quick.
Don’t let me suffer.
I hear a deep voice
Whispering in my mind.
“The soul is a fire,
“My how yours burns.”
Something isn’t right.
I can’t feel the gun.
I open my eyes.
He isn’t there.
He’s outside.
His sister is talking to him.
I can’t hear what they are saying.
I can’t even hear
What everyone around me is saying.
They are blocking my view.
I can’t see what’s going on.
I hear a gunshot.
I hear a woman’s screams.
At last, they move.
He’s lying on the ground.
His sister is crying over his still body.
Was I the cause?
Did he kill himself because of me?
I feel tears float down my cheeks.
I have one last thought.
“I couldn’t save him.”
