The Sniper

The moon in the sky,
The darkness of night,
Waiting alone,
Watching birds take flight.

The silence of night,
And the darkness of town,
Was suddenly broken,
By the guns all around.

On a rooftop,
Near a bridge,
Laying and waiting,
Was a sniper on the edge.

Waiting alone,
In the cold and the dark,
Lighting a match,
And seeing a spark.

A bullet whizzed pass,
Right near his head,
Any closer,
And he would’ve been dead.

Seeing two people,
Taking them out,
Then he was shot,
And begin to shout.

Flat on the roof,
Feeling no pain,
Raising his gun,
Then taking aim.

He was shot at,
Then dropped his gun,
Spotted the sniper,
And knew what had to be done.

Revolver in hand,
Counting the distance,
Pulling the trigger,
The sniper died in an instance.
Crying for joy,
Struggling to his feet,
Ran over to look,
But only to meet,
his brother.