Science Fiction Series

Inside Job

 Inside Job

Every battle fought and won,
​     until toward me
     you turned your gun
​          not to kill but to stun.
Again, shots fired!
​     Along with me
     you looked to see
          and didn't know
​          convincingly.
​Then kneeling with a kindly mien,
     you dressed my wounds
​     and wished me well
     though every time I rose
          I fell.
Weaker and weaker with each hit,
     so little of me
     I longed to quit
          with no relief in sight,
          bullets winging left and right.
​But nursing me, you'd softly say, "Have faith, my love.
     Against the world
​     it's just we two."
​           So, how could I know
​           of your murderous coup?

                                                                                    Loren Blowers © 2017

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