He hired a professional sniper to shut him accurately in the heart; one shut, one bullet, quick and perfectly done.
after walking out from the meeting with the sniper, a cold thought melted his guts:
'why i need to be hunted and shut dead? '
'is it important to die like a hunted animal, or a hero'
'where and when from now? '
'is there anything i forgot? '
'is there anything i need to claim before i die more than claiming my own death? '
'is there anything that will stop this accurate bullet? '
' or should i run away, hide from the sniper? after all he his a human being with at least one unique skill. will he suddenly shift his intention from being a sniper to a compassionate peace keeper or something else completely different?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem