Posted in Poetry


His death was sudden

no warning gave he,

no sickness

just instant


No goodbyes were exchanged,

no last glimpse of his face,

it was just not to be,

but we didn’t know his destiny.

The darkness shook him,

the night it took him,

bullets piercing through metal then flesh overtook him.

It was a dark lane,

and there was no escape.

One way in

no way out

next rest stop was in the grave.



A creative nut with endless possibilities to offer the world. Just need to start with one possibility - my words.

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