There he lies,
the crimson blood pools.
Many claim time stops,
many are naive,
time is an emotionless entity,
the clock with always tick
regardless of human action.
A woman screams
as if her son had welcomed death.
I stood cold as stone,
immobile as stone,
cold, rigor mortis.
The gun lies in his hand,
an extension of control,
intelligence didn't have the chance to **** him,
although one might argue intelligence initiated depression.
This is not an excuse for my actions,
merely a cause and effect situation.