Existent

Murder

Hunched over, barron fool,

capsized in his, own demise, he

looks into a father's eyes, he

imposes himself as this, 

father's son, wishing, please.

Please, put down your gun

Please, make another price, 

no amount is too high, for sums will add up 

above the ground, where life surrounds, but-

six feet under is not where I belong, I-

I have children, I have a home,

I made mistakes but I have grown,

And a daughter, watching as this man, 

collapses against the ground

and how his,

eyes remained open, 

yet they no longer saw,

not the blood painted rose that seemed to,

unravel beneath his bones as his body

already, began to mold,

curve over in his mother's recoil, his

daughter's first steps, his

son's too young to 

understand that, a father just took away his 

whole world,

With no reason more than, 

an eye for an eye and,

what crimes you commit are implied,

to your own position, to your own final sigh

and as a daughter seen a life unfold she

held back the feeling that at one stage,

would have made her explode

Like the flame that would spark,

the fire that would ignite, 

to wash away, the work of night,

evidence not seen by man,

but the stars,

the stars watched, they glistened bright,

the souls that scattered throughout the sky.