John McCullagh August 28, 2007
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I see your face beneath a starry sky

Arms extended with gun in hand

My blood-soaked body yields a weakened cry

Steam and anger crowd your reddened face

As my life ebbs towards a final grace

My body jumps as bullets pump

Into my bleeding chest

Fatal rounds fired

With military zest.

 

Voices speak of me in a former tense

As boots smash into my feeble limbs

My impending demise makes little sense

I can taste the dew on the blood-soaked grass

As I grope around for a discarded shoe

This foolish move provides the perfect cue

For you to complete your deadly task.

 

I am rigid, scared, crying inside

My legs are warm and wet

From oozing piss I could not hide.

I know what is coming, few surprises

On the road to nowhere.

 

Then I see you creeping

Towards my dying frame

You kneel with perfect aim, and

One more bullet smashes into

My exploding brain.

 

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