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May 2015
A bullet hole,
In fragile glass,
Overkill.

Cracks develop,
Reaching out,
Transparent valleys.

Stability lost,
Splitting now,
Shards fall.

The whole pane,
Collapses with,
Faint echoes.

Hit the floor,
All,
Finished.
Parsavagely Kompenere
Written by
Parsavagely Kompenere  19/F/Yorkshire
(19/F/Yorkshire)   
293
     Parsavagely Kompenere and Rockie
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