Chaos

©2008 =magaz

A tracker well camouflaged I see,
tracking, stealthily stalking for me,
closing in with his silencer in hand,
my rifle sniper I replaced to fend;
"Fire in the hole!", as my grenade I threw,
ducking for cover as the shrapnel flew,
the blow was quick yet damaging
so fast so that there was no shrieking,
and crimson blood splattering all over
along the body blown as I peeked to hover;
frenzied by my gory inhumanity
I reach for my sniper with full agility,
holding my post sniping my adversaries: -
my presence unsuspected by my enemies
as they approach closer within my range
eliminating their flankers as I cringe.
One by one their heads I popped
and along their morale too dropped.
I scout the horizons for assailing snipers
aiding them to instantly meet their Makers
before they surge and make me meet mine.
My kills they were all well done pretty and fine,
I have yet to meet any with a record better
because if I did, of him I would make a jester.