Continued from Additcton (Part 1)
We had already got our fix that day.
An overdose perhaps,
But that did not stop
Them from providing more;
Nor us from enduring it.
Coming down, after several
Hours-in, we were rolling home
When that fireball erupted
Brilliantly; a cacophony of
Crackles, roars, screams, and the
Sound that’s made when the life
Is sucked right out of the
People around you.
I felt the heat from
The blast wash over me;
And as the plunger fell
And the high ensued
I reacted automatically.
The .50 roared above my head;
The broken air, shattered
By its bullets, visibly pulsed
Around me with the sick
Rhythm of my racing heart.
In slow motion I saw my target as
He turned to run.
Of the world around us erupting in tiny
Puffs of gray as bullets raked
The street, the walls, the houses
The everything; He looked surprised.
He tried to run, but oddly danced
Like some marionette with twisted
Strings, now unwound by my right thumb
Making two quick motions on the
Selector switch; Click. Click.
And for the first and only time,
Regardless of the battles we’d had
And lead we’d traded under dire circumstance
I put my weapon on burst, and
Emptied my magazine into
That poor gentleman whose grotesque dance
Entertained me while I was high.
My men were dying around me,
And as quixotic rage rose within, I changed –
Engrossed in it. Immersed in it.
Sick with it. Sad that deep
Down, somewhere hidden inside
Of me, I enjoyed it. Ashamed of it;