While I was walking in the dark,
on my mind it left a mark
but a mark more like a brand,
not just written in the sand.
On my holeless walk within a can
up, up crept that heartless man.
If I'd known him, I'd have ran,
but of his work, I'm not a fan.
Now that I recall, nothing crossed my mind.
Walking in the dark, there isn't much that I could find.
The man came slowly into view, I was already out of time
and in a split second, the scene had to unwind.
Immediately, he reached for his right pocket,
whipped out his Glock, aimed for my eye socket-
"Your life will end here, not one thing will stop it,"
and with a slight squeeze then a sound like a rocket,
my life slipped away, like water from a faucet.
cold blood