Duel
confer with your men
me or him
him or me
i will not let him make
an orphan of my daughter
face each other
he turns to me
a bittersweet smile
he must know
he is standing in the place
his heart and soul
was enveloped
in Death’s arms
wait.
doesn't he have
children as well?
count to ten
my finger is already on
the trigger
as the numbers
i know so well
stumble out of my mouth
Three, two, one
he points toward the sky
raise a glass to freedom
my trigger is already down
wait!
but i have already made
orphans of his children
and a widow
of his wife
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