Paranoia – the covert kind

I never heard a single thing
I just dropped to the ground
The bullet came from a thousand yards
And it never made a sound.

But the devil missed and didn’t know
I’d made it look so good
I’d fallen very carefully
And burst the bags of blood.

The killer left immediately
With presumption of a kill
And I’ll lie still as if I’m dead
I’ll wait patiently – until.

The warning came by text last night
As always from an unknown source
So very, very carefully
I’d slightly changed my course.

The bullet would have hit me
Of that I have no doubt
It’s only due to the warning
That I’m alive to sort it out.

Who would want to kill me?
Who would want me dead?
Who will find that they will die
By my gun-hand instead?

Well of course I know who did it
He does the same as me
But he works for a different master
Which makes him – the enemy.

Our covert life, the secrecy
Seemed to satisfy a goal
But after all the years of death
You realise the toll.

No longer can I trust the team
That sends me out to kill
Their desperate need to dominate
The arrests, the rumour mill.
———-

I’m down below the radar now
I’ll watch and wait, and then
When all the parts fall into place
I’ll remove at least two men.

The first has tried to kill me
Of course, I’m killing him
The second is my villainous boss
Who I found connived with him.

This sounds like paranoia
But just you try it for a while
When you kill people for a living
It rare you’ll want to smile.
———-

I’m moving on again now
Of me you’ll find no trace
You’ll come and look but never find
And you’ve never seen my face.

©JRW2014

The Wind’s Crazy Dance

The wind blows hard and the leaves merrily prance
Flitting about like characters in some hysterical dance
High in the air they fly like a train
As if held aloft by an invisible chain

Held there in a perfect symmetrical stance
Then its off again in the wild crazy dance.

Round and round they dance in a ring
The wind makes them dance, and it seems to sing
He’s in control now, the king of the skies
Blowing about anything as much as he likes.

First there’s a crack, then a branch hits the ground
A tile from a roof falls to a great crashing sound
Window panes rattle as the wind rushes about
Making such a noise as some even fall out.

And then the wind drops and the noise is no more
The things in the air? They just fall to the floor.

©JRW2014