slow, is smooth, smooth is fast
this is my mantra, this is my creed
it is all that i do, i watch, and i wait
slow and smooth
a target begins to move, the last few seconds of his life are mine to govern, mine to end
every personal movment, every step he takes, every scratch, every eyeblink, is doomed, fated to end, fated to be ended, by me
i am out of range of his vision, and yet im closer to him than anyone has and ever will be
i am become the angel of death, my rifle is my scythe, my bullet is my law
my target, is my world, in this one moment, there is no god greater than me, he merely decides what to do with whats leftover after im finished
my finger curls upon the trigger, my rifle roars and bucks back
a hole the size of a quarter appears in my targets chest, blood seeping through his shirt quickly, but not as fast as the shock going through his body
i watch him die through my scope, and suddenly im me again
cold, and scared a kid just barley out of highschool
a target moves, and im god again