The light was too bright
So he hid from the sun
In his dark palace
He held the gun
Closed his eyes
And held his breath
Gripping the gun
Waiting for death
Placed his fingers
In perfect position
The gun well loaded
Full of amunition
Raising the gun
Up to his head
He ran from life
Choosing death instead
Pulled the trigger
And fired the shot
Dropping the gun
The barrel still hot
And in that split second
Before he died
I swear I saw it
My angle cried...
