Target True
The Nest in the Black Tree
The day has fallen on the sight of the gun
Aimed true for the resolve it’s meaning
Cock the hammer engage
She is the sniper waiting
The Nest
Miles of fire
Her target is bleeding out
Did she know him
He swallowed the page
Nothing
God Speed be him now
In concentration
The Trigger Finger infected
Blood lust hangs perfumed notes in the air
The scent is stolen and tracked
The Nest
Miles of glass
She saw the red in the eye
Aim. Sniper. Fire.
He hangs his shoulder low
As the throat of the vulnerable is shown
Was he in range
The shot was mute
It’s intent lethal
Point taken at face value
He almost survived
Her aim true
In the suspended moment
She said I love you
I’m sorry
Me or you
Brontus Singlairn made me
My mission
The War Machine is coming
