Poetry

Sniper

By 30th April 2011December 9th, 2019No Comments

Am trained to the highest am one of the best I work in line of eternal rest,
I see my position way up high, as I climb the stairs I fear this is where I’ll die,
The enemy advances from the fields below, through the sight of my rifle I see the fear they show,
Alone in the tower I gather my thoughts, thinking all of those who died by my shots,
I pick up my rifle and tighten my grip, look through the sights until my bullet hit,
These men I hit fall to the floor, their duty ended their life no more,
I saw a soldier on open ground aim a s shot in his leg then he falls to the ground,
He holds his hand on his open wound as I can hear his crying sound,
To his men that are hiding behind the hedge, I can hear him plead I can hear him beg
On the ground I used him as bait, I reloaded my rifle then sat and wait,
From the bushes I saw his friend, a shot of death I aim and send,
No sorrow now pity I do not feel, I aim and fire and watch another keel,
Am forced into cover from incoming rounds, wishing my hands over my ears to stop the deafening sound,
I aim and shoot and watch another fall, no cry of pain no dying call,
Soldiers from both sides lie in heaps, as I reload weapon I see my side retreat,
The enemy advances in the streets below, I have no choice I have no where to go,
I have no choice but to stay and fight, killing the men I see in my sight,
A burning pain I feel in my chest, I have no choice but to sit and rest,
The stairs foot steps draw near, my fate in this war will soon be clear,
The soldier advances I look into his eyes, he raises his rifle but I do not cry, but am ready to lay down and die,

Gordon Bruce

Author Gordon Bruce

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