Unfinished Business

Averting my gaze from the bloodshed

my vision blurred

warm blood of my mates paints my face

tumultuous flurries of lead unleash

now prostrate on the turf

turmoil ceased

lucidity

alone and insuperably injured

surrounded by shredded remains

victims of a macabre ambush

my indeterminate fate

lay on this bloody battefield

I run for the tree line

sprinting with such pertinacity

tread on my combat boots afire

I am safe for now

but he knows my crimes

I have unfinished business

with the reaper.