The figure moved; "let by gones be by gones
n'all" called the other reaching for gun.
Shadow flashed, eyes witnessed unsong;
"bound soul flitting shade bound, n'all!" gun sung.
As the bank clerk accosted sought shelter,
the barrelled void looked on with glee. Happy?
What a time to shine we've a belter,
and I'll betch ya bare presents from me.
Animate beings the devils in deets
Replete we so are and we suffer.
In-animacy, the terms quite discreet,
and our ignorance hampers our buffer.
For guns everywhere, unloading despair,
pushing and crushing; the barrels grim stare.