*BOOM!! CLAOW! CLAOW CLAOW!!*
*BOOM!!*
The Sound of the 45 went,
Out the window One of it's Victims were sent!
in a bloody mess His corpse Rolled,
others inside their lives Were stoled,
by Steel and Heat that gave birth into their heads...
Their bodies lined with holes,
As their faces laid frozen in fright,
such a Savage sight...
TO BEHOLD!
A room of 10 men young and old, Now they lay in fold...
IT WAS HE!!!
He who Dwells In the house of the Reaper,
He who Brings men judegement by hand,
Ceasing their times with a pour of red Sand...
His approach Gives Fright to the even the land,
Anyone who proves enemy shall not Stand!
Through the back he crept, And Into the room
Where they slept...
he Appeared...
THE MAN DRESSED IN TRENCH!
He is What Even demons have feared
like a Shadow of Ancient Tact, he moved in between their bunks,
Not one sound he gave,
not one light he disturbed...
for the moon peeked into the windows...and before her eyes she witnessed...Judgement.
He drew Them!
A pair of 1911s!
swiftly!
from under his trench...He Unleashed Graves!
Tombstones!
he Marked each man in his bed!
Some sprung up in Confusion and Disorientation!
Their Guns they tried to reach...
Failure was all they recieved...
Some rushed downstairs loaded,
Mossbergs and Sweepers, but Hell was the only thing that met these Sleepers...
like a dancing shadow...The Man in Trench Spunned and dodged bullets....he Zipped, He bobbed and Aimed!
with his Pistols He Surely Maimed...
LIVES!
The Work was done...
He Exited the Site...
leaving the Police to Tend to this Savage night.
©warstorm
W