Through the door, he Enters while they all eat.
Silence is given while on their seat.
At the table, their eyes explode in fear,
their hearts race,
their minds confused but know that before them is death in cold form,
the smart ones Ran Knowing to Escape the oncoming storm.
At the remaining all, he stares,
A Man dressed in a trench who's presence Thickens the air.
That's when they all Fly off their feet,
With Huge hostility, The Group of men give greet.
Bloodlust and Shock Their bodies Excrete,
Hands reach for the fine steel within their coats,
Arrogance and Pride stuff their minds that it bloats.
With steel of his own
The Man in the trench swiftly he Pulls out,
This was no stunt or performance for clout,
it was a Trial...and death was Sprayed about.
in the form of bullets.
They riddled the air.
A horrific scene that seemed surely unfair.
vicious bullets they were!
Crushing chests,
And eating flesh,
Ripping organs and slaughtering most of their best.
with fierce headshots, the men were put to rest.
for criminals such as these, there is no such thing as Unfair...
for in life a path such as this, only Despair.
blood decorated the lovely walls,
the Women upstairs cry and bawls,
chairs flipped, and food flies,
All while these men met their merciless demise.
some tried to arise, to Deliver shots of their own,
instead, they were made into a corpse for a coffin and stone.
The man in the Trench cleared them all,
His face intense as They all fall,
When the deed was done and silence once again fell,
back outside The Air was shook by a church Bell.
he reloaded...
he reloaded and within his coat, his Gun went back into it's home,
and back out into the world where he continued to roam.
©warstorm
W