An innocent walk in the midsummer's night heat. My mind fluent, clear thoughts of the dusks shine upon the lake's greenwater. As the night's peaceful surrounding shattered like glass, the gunshots tolled the bells of death, breaking apart the quiet sombre soul. Flailing to the soil as the madman hissed, the barrage of lead didn't cease. The thirteenth shot fired, the evil did end, one person lying, moments away from death. The steaming lead tore me up inside, lying alone wishing I'd die, cursing the hell in which I lie. The pain so immense, my soul standing, head staring up towards the sky, a mortal suffering the past bye. My body cramped, throwing up blood, all I could do is ponder, why the madman wanted me to die. My eyes couldn't cry, and all I could do is wait for my heart to pause. The first bullet fired, brought me to my knees, the next twelve brought me a bit closer to hell. Lying in shock, on the grass, waiting for my time to pass, all I could see is the chunks, from the thirteen blasts. My funeral running through my head, a corpse lying in a casket, pasty, white, and dead. As my friends would crowd into the chapel, a hiss would come crawling from his lips, the omen lost, not to be missed. Cold and damp, trapped in the prison known as my body, my clothes caked in dirt, crimson red and bloody. Reflections in the water, not so clear anymore, now filled with images of bullet stricken gore. The lure of death, pulling me, oh so closer, his eyes looking down upon me, dissecting my thoughts, I pray to god, that the bastard is caught. Fading away into the nights bliss, the venomous shots kiss, reminds me that my presence will be missed. My heart beat slowing, my conscience knowing my story will be told on the night's news. The madman gone, gotten away, no words will help me sway my decision to let the world, all float away. Goodbye, to those who loved me so, the thirteenth shot was the final blow.