Snap.
Someone is behind me,
hot on my trail
as I lead the damned
down a road worn and frail.
Cough.
They draw much closer
as the gap begins to thin
and doubt fills my head,
going for the win.
Click.
The clip is empty,
though the aim is dead on
but bullets do the killing
of good intentions gone wrong.
Bang!
The shot rings in my ears
and I know it’s far too late
since it’s either you or me
with whom death has a date.
Autumn Siders 