God's Ash Tray Poem by C.R. Ebowski

The sun burns me like a witch in Salem
Scorching a hole in my vacant soul
My eyes squint from the reflection
Of the sweat pouring down my face
The time of vengeance has arrived
A conscious blink forces me back to the present
My enemy bellows an unfamiliar war cry
Even in a foreign language it is understood
Like an actor on cue death rattles their cage
The pop up targets have fallen again
The only sound heard is the smoke from my barrel
A whisper in the land that was holy
But to me it is a giant ash tray built for God
The wasted and departed lay at my feet
Teeth clinched in resentment of the pleasure
My body might make it through this year
But what is left of my mind has already shattered