PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Blending with the light, 
as ancients did― 
on the leafy path. 

You turn your gun― 
on an old skull, 
with broken teeth, 

to rewrite the murder, 
without qualms. A sniper 
would take an aim. 

Untouchable, the years 
roll by, sending echos 
in the valley of tears. 

A final stroke. 
The blood stops in the veins 
while the angel sleeps.