Silent Gun
The crimson sun still up
as she woefully walks
in an abandoned rustic railways;
Her feet ~ as heavy as the stale steel rails
almost buried in forgotten soil;
Her hands as cold as tombstone plate
whilst holding a gun on her left hand~
She grips a quill pen
to write the obscure death
of the man in blue suit~
and the deaths of twelve passengers
still unsolved...
She was here some decades ago~
aboard in an old steam train
The memory of that macabre ride
haunted her for thousand days and nights.
She writes in scarlet ink
on a bloodstained scroll
that says like this:
" To all the victims who died here,
I lay my hands before this forgotten railway
and the weeping willows as my witness;
I never thought too much love would kill.
I killed my beloved man in blue suit,
the driver of that tortuous train journey...
Yes I killed him to save the three million people
dwelling on the final station;
Using the twelve infected people,
He was sent to spread that virus
that he thought would change the world.
I didn't understand till now~
Yes, I killed him with a silencer
and unlocked that explosive weapon
before it reached its final destination.
But I was spared~
not the twelve people;
Now, with this gun I’ll give justice
to all people who died here
by killing the undersigned murderer.
Till death,
Anonymous ”.
The gun silently flicks
pointing her head~
Darks clouds hide the day
as her blood flows
on the thirsty ground.
1 May 2021
Modified for “ Guns Poetry Contest”
Sponsored by Anthony Biaanco
11th place
Copyright © Jcb Brul | Year Posted 2021
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