Sniper Poem by The Poet King

Alone in the distant vision, alone in the darkness,
Standing ready to kill enemies of the nation,
The task I do is not something that God may bless,
Yet I do it - for my country, and to earn reputation.
My tool for daily exercise is just a mere piece of metal
Studded with handles, triggers, and a visionary scope;
All I need to do is to find a good vantage point to settle;
No one can stand against my attacks - even armor will not cope
To protect those who deserve to die, who've spilled blood;
My life is a demon - a monster I have to master.
Do not believe in my words - my life is ruined, but not yours!
Heed your optimist, and avert the disease of being a violence freak.
I await those humans, who are unaware about valor and truth,
I strike with stealth, my only guide and weapon is my instinct.
My spirit is hurt by a wrath, that no medicine can soothe,
Bullets ricochet around empty halls, to find the root of the prey.
Every once in a while, I may reload my gun, giving you the chance
To come to me, come and show me your act of glory
By cutting off my throat or stabbing my back with a knife,
But before you do that, my friend, you'd already have been history.