The Snow Turned to Red

This poem is based on Simo Häyhä, also known as the White Death, who was a Finnish sniper who served in the army during the Winter War. He used an M/28-30, and scored 505 confirmed kills in around a hundred days. The most notable thing about him is the fact that he chose to not use a scope, and instead preferred to rely on the iron sights.
This poem dives into how it would feel to be a Russian soldier being hunted down by the White Death.

Heavily inspired by Sabaton, feedback would be appreciated :)