After a street gun-fight there was an odd way to die….
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His voiced cracked,
almost wordless,
his emotions stacked,
nerveless,
but he shot from the hip,
on his shoulders a chip,
as the young man crumpled to the ground,
no noise, no vision, no sound,
his soul closed the distance,
between life and death,
it was such a mess,
last breath
made its way out,
he heard the living shout,
the pain sang,
his ghost rang
the bell of death,
death talking amongst each other,
comparing notes with one another,
muffled voices,
odd choices,
but clearly audible,
then an angel’s wings flapped,
his sanity snapped,
and his mind clapped,
on his way to hell,
and God had nothing else to tell.
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