The Russian Roulette

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 11, 2018

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Submitted: May 11, 2018

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The days were shot down abruptly

The road sank in the pitch darkness.

The steps stopped because of confusing.

Thoughts filled with the ugly delusions.

 

The creeps on the back tore the body.

The scream squeezed the neck to the bloody.

No rescue, no chance at the gamble.

The gun would splash red through the temple. 


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