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Fan Fiction / Poetry / The Midnight Patrol
Submitted by Spartan[nK]
More fan fiction from this user
Views: 272
Mar 13, '08
Author: DontShoot
My name is Mark;
I am twenty-three.
And this is my tale;
Come read and see.
I was a part
Of a midnight patrol.
And on us, the violence
Had taken its toll.
The men were tired,
Hungry and scared.
We knew how poorly
That we had fared.
Against the Zerg
And against their jeers.
Their constant attacks
Had renewed our fears
Of suffering, pain
And loss and tears.
The bloodshed, indeed
Had turned the gears
Of madness, insanity
Suffering, woe.
In constant fright
It would flow
Through the minds of the poor
Through the minds of the weak.
Through the minds of the humble
Through the minds of the meek.
Insanity flowed
Like a constant stream,
Making one man
Frightfully scream.
The man in question,
His name was Joe.
His mind had filled
With sadness and woe.
He had lost his brother
Mother, and wife.
He now resorted
To taking his life.
To end his suffering
And end his fears.
Both of which
Had lasted for years.
He pulled out his gun,
Pointed at he.
For there was no place
He’d rather be.
Than with his brother
Mother, and wife.
He wanted to meet them
And take his life.
He said his goodbyes,
He was now ready.
His voice had quivered,
His aim, unsteady.
I leapt for the gun,
To stop him, quick!
He turned to me,
And with a snick
He pointed the gun,
And fired a round.
It hit my head
Without a sound.
Blinded by pain,
And fading in red,
Someone rushed
To nurse my head.
I sat there and prayed;
I prayed for peace.
I prayed that my breathing
Would quickly cease.
We sat there in silence,
The group of eight,
And waited for God
To decide my fate.
The pain then slowed
It dulled, it ceased.
My prayers had been answered,
My prayers for peace.
Then all went dark
As I lay on the floor.
I slipped into death
And knew no more.
My name is Mark,
I am twenty-three.
And tonight
My best friend murdered me.
My name is Mark;
I am twenty-three.
And this is my tale;
Come read and see.
I was a part
Of a midnight patrol.
And on us, the violence
Had taken its toll.
The men were tired,
Hungry and scared.
We knew how poorly
That we had fared.
Against the Zerg
And against their jeers.
Their constant attacks
Had renewed our fears
Of suffering, pain
And loss and tears.
The bloodshed, indeed
Had turned the gears
Of madness, insanity
Suffering, woe.
In constant fright
It would flow
Through the minds of the poor
Through the minds of the weak.
Through the minds of the humble
Through the minds of the meek.
Insanity flowed
Like a constant stream,
Making one man
Frightfully scream.
The man in question,
His name was Joe.
His mind had filled
With sadness and woe.
He had lost his brother
Mother, and wife.
He now resorted
To taking his life.
To end his suffering
And end his fears.
Both of which
Had lasted for years.
He pulled out his gun,
Pointed at he.
For there was no place
He’d rather be.
Than with his brother
Mother, and wife.
He wanted to meet them
And take his life.
He said his goodbyes,
He was now ready.
His voice had quivered,
His aim, unsteady.
I leapt for the gun,
To stop him, quick!
He turned to me,
And with a snick
He pointed the gun,
And fired a round.
It hit my head
Without a sound.
Blinded by pain,
And fading in red,
Someone rushed
To nurse my head.
I sat there and prayed;
I prayed for peace.
I prayed that my breathing
Would quickly cease.
We sat there in silence,
The group of eight,
And waited for God
To decide my fate.
The pain then slowed
It dulled, it ceased.
My prayers had been answered,
My prayers for peace.
Then all went dark
As I lay on the floor.
I slipped into death
And knew no more.
My name is Mark,
I am twenty-three.
And tonight
My best friend murdered me.
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