A Most Violent Year

He thinks ,

about forgiveness
the forgiveness which he hadn’t got ,
And about time
about the passing seconds
about the approaching night.

He waits ,

out of sight down the alleyway
where he can see the “exit” sign
the one he’d watch for hours ,
And he waits
till the doors open
and light casts its Judas glare
on the emerging silhouette.

He thinks ,

about guilt
the guilt which he knows he won’t feel ,
And about time
about the passing seconds
as he walks towards his prey
and the approaching night.

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