The pissed off sniper

He crouches on the roof, sweaty but focused.
When ready his laser sight parts the crowds like he’s Moses.
Cold lens with crosshairs, he don’t despair.
Waiting till his target is closest.
He goes unnoticed.
Calm, in a state of hypnosis as he prepares to kill.
Taking pride in his job he approaches with flair and skill.
Work ethic brutal he does not care to chill.
He pauses.
From his jacket he pulls his pay packet and goes to tear the bill.
But can’t bear to lose the thrill.
Honestly, he didn’t choose to feel.
But the high comes naturally.
He gets off on this and does it with a certain majesty as he checks his gadgetry.
Kill count floating through his mind in a vivid tapestry.

Glancing anxiously, he sets his watch.
As his target stops and clocks that something’s off.
The cat’s out the box and all bets are off.
Moving with economy, we’re curious to see the next move of this deadly prodigy.
He slinks through shadows with dogged feet.
Stalking his target dancing to a morbid beat.
An assassin who plays by the rules, no sordid cheat.
Best avoid the cops he can’t afford the heat.
Be more discreet with the law of the street.
It’s time he walk the walk or chalk this down to a poor defeat.
But this score is no chore.
Surrounded by gore, he carves up bodies till they hit the floor and fall at his feet.
Pressing for confession, he gets no further than a wall of deceit.
Getting angry, he wants to brawl with these geeks.
In their last few seconds of life he can tell they’re stalling a treat and cooling their feet.
Brave goons that don’t change their tune.
Protecting their boss who’s a fool and a cheat.

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