Posted: August 17, 2016 in Adventure, Fictional Romance
Tags: , , , , , , ,

A Kill Machine

I still sit below the Oak, in the winter evenings.
The faint glows of the church, warming my bones.
And slowly the numb finger soothes the old scratching.
You, me and the heart in between, and those tiny stars above
Echoes of the bells, and the dusk still settles on time.

Staring through the rising smoke, the sun died with a splash
Faceless men in woolen coats, their shadows blend in dark
I still sit all the same, with cold cling to my skin.
And remember you hair flying in the early old December wind.

Plunging curves of the dirt road, still rings of your laughs.
The gravels there somewhere, and the stories which they hold
I still remember the sunshine falling on my face. Whispering,
You walk to me, dressed in my shirt with last night coffee stains.

Headlight of a passing van, the metal glints off my gun
Back to reality, I swirl on the dead leaves, senses so aware.
My dirty beard and roughed up boots,
I walk to the present darkness
Every evening below the Oaks, you’re gone, I realize.

Little did I realize, being here has always been a mission,
Working for the country, a nonexistent vigilante I am.
Guns and blades, death right on my face.
They never made me stronger
Less a soul. A kill machine, since the night you betrayed.

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