I welcome the silence from the middle of the night;
I was counting on the cover of darkness,
but look up to see a full moon, giving me a watchful eye.
I unsheath my pistol, but decide it will be too loud,
I don’t want to leave any witnesses behind;
so I slip into your tent, without making a sound.
Smile as I see you lying helpless in a dream,
walking closer to your bed;
I start crawling on the ground.
Slowly slide my blade out,
stealth like a cat;
It's quiet as a tomb.
I’m inches from your face,
close enough to smell your breath.
I place the cold metal to your neck,
swing my arm once to the side;
your blood is black in the moonlight,
gushing all over my hands.
You wake and grab your throat,
start swallowing blood, and choke.
I watch you try and put up a fight,
you squirm, and stare, with dying eyes.
So I stick you another time,
in the side right through your heart.
Your blood licks my face,
too bad it took more than one slice;
for your body to go limp.
Finally your death has come,
I’m free from the burden of your grip.