Middle Of The Night

The Middle Of The Night

You know you're all done running,
when he points his gun at you.
You knew you had it coming
and there's nothing more to do.

You hear the click behind your head
as he pulls the hammer back.
You know for sure that you are dead;
and all the odds were stacked.

It's not awfully hard to figure
in the darkness of your peril,
when his finger's on the trigger
and the bullet's in the barrel.

Cold blue steel's bearing down
and you smell the powder's bite,
but you never hear the final sound;
in the middle of the night.

© Copyright 2007 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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