A seething red rage pulsates
like molten metal
through vains on the brink of bursting,
As if he guzzled a gallon of gasoline
and with a sick sick smile
swallowed a lit cigarette.

Still shrieking he strikes the floor.
White knuckled with fractured fists
shredded vocal chords,
crimson tears and cracked teeth
he's held upright only by spite
and a heart harbouring hate.

So as he stands
He scratches a single name
into a single bullet
and starts to shovel two graves
then prays for three lives
that are about to be forever shaken.