In Momento

His chest crested with every rapid breath taken,

And fell with every sharp exhale.

In disbelief and shock, he stood and simply stared

At the lifeless body lying, exactly where it fell.

 

His hands began to shake as the realization landed.

The pistol melted from his grip and rang to the floor,

Still smoking it told the tale he could not know,

The life had been in front of him, and now was no more.

 

Three crimson holes told this story he would not know,

Of how the lead flew, hot and unfeeling, piercing flesh.

He was beside himself, a specter spectator,

Aghast at the wounds he could not mesh.

 

Perhaps it had been necessary, this act he committed.

Him or me arguments, a battle within his mind,

But there would be no grand victor here,

Just the loss, is all anyone would find.