One Bullet One Gun

Away, far far away.

Is still to close.

Breaking my boundaries.

Just for you to breathe.

One breath.

One bullet to my gun.

One death.

I surrender.

When you coffin my 
grave with your nails.

Six is the pick.

To the measurement.

Into the soil by my soul.

Slaughtered to be 
tortured.

Into and beyond the 
depth.

Because I will drown 
inside mine.

Where I will curse my 
rest.

In the bed of the dead.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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