The Invisible Man Poem by Josh Bashline

For two days he lays waiting.
His hunger and thirst drives him to the brink of insanity.
Yet he lies still.

Time flies.
His target is now an obsession.
How long can he stay and wait?
How ready must he be to take the shot?

He is a complete soldier of fortune with a mind of his own.
His rifle is his love.
Without it, he is lost.

His body has left him.
The tip of his finger and his right eye stay loyal.
The sensation in the man’s index is as strong as the beat of his heart.

His breath makes steam in the air.
It shadows his view from beyond the trees.

The invisible man puts a round in the left temple of his target.
No one knows he exists.