His crying out

only adds more ugliness

to the scene

and becomes

a self made requiem.

 

With chaos

in his dying eyes

and bullshit heroism gone

he is discovering

how pathetic it was

to think false bravado alone

provided invincibility.

 

There was never going to be

a medal for your savagery to others.

This is your inevitable prize

the blade you thought

would never find your flesh.

The 'No Fear' emblazoned t-shirt

now soaking in your OWN blood.

 

While bystanding

I look down

with pity.

But it will be

for the ghosts of your victims

those who will be waiting

to greet you

on the other side

with vengeful cheers.

________________________________________________

 

 

© Stef Wilde 2015