Poem

Poem

Raising his weapon against his rival,
He remembered the words of his bible.
He then saw a beam
And the moon did it seem,
For him, was it the brightest of all nights.
A voice echoing through the valleys,
It seemed to be coming from the alleys
Was his fate now decided?
Sinking to his knees
The pain rushed down his spine
But to him,
It was all fine…