Bulky, heavy, yet so crafty, out of the league,
wind blowing under the dusty rusty shanty car wheels,
falling out of pieces, crawled on to the surface to regain self,
killer stood by me, evil smile, waiting to put an end to the rest,
opened the door, took out the gun, pulled the trigger,
I saw, smiled and took a breath for the end and started to shiver,
strange, surprising, yet so true, the bullets were out of his gun,
he fell down, shot himself, and felt this was all just but fun,
puzzled by the turn of events, moved on, opened the door,
surprised to see, pieces of papers, letters, and flowers lying on the floor,
miss misery, wow, lover gone crazy, walking on the streets, seeking redemption,
this was the only way he could relax and find no seek nobody's attention.
destitute, desperate, or unlucky soul, whatever could have had been the story,
the poor man, looked like was crazy in love and it couldn't be his history,
sad, he lost what he had once, and now he lost himself,
time is such a slim candle that burns out quickly with a flick of handful of events.....
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