God Is a Bullet.

Abruptly it’s ended in a smite act so senseless The crucifixion of Amy has finally ceased No more trepid slumbering with one eye open The cycle fulfilled in a moment’s release This future no longer a constant wary foreboding Her fog banked vision burns away in the light Hope’s power begins it’s antiseptic cleansing A life tortured in silence was reborn tonight Contusions diminish the infections have dried Independence scent barely a recognized trace Her trust bloodied shards of a pulverized mirror Self-confidence sprouts at a laggardly pace Imploring for aid her voice wailed out sheer panic Praying to God…let this life just be done From a fist calloused faith when no one came calling She found her god's grace in the flash of a gun.