All I got left is a gun, 3 clips and this old rusty shed
they’re all dead, executions; one bullet strait thru the head
The are all gone, murdered and destroyed by the enemy
its only me, alone... stuck in my mindless conceptuality
They come for me... searching... they hunt for my life
so I ready my knife... just incase I need to suddenly strike
When will they find out that I’m right under their nose
my fear steadily grows... from here, it seems they don’t know
Will they find me? Should I just stand up and unload?
But yet I sit... and beads of sweat runs down my brow
what was that crack? Should I get up and run now?
Fuck they know... I have don’t have a choice but flee...
suddenly a shooting spree...I would have died inevitably
a cold burst... oh god it hurts... I limp and fall to the ground
then another sound, just a snap as another bullet hits my back
Why didn’t I stay in my own space... my safety box?
But then the thoughts stop...............
...............death comes in cold slow waves of electric shocks