A stranger awoke in a quiet town,
His head hurt and his memory was a blur.
He wondered around looking about with a frown,
His thoughts were abuzz and none willing to concur.

Wherever he looked he saw only death,
Many bodies lay with an unseeing eye.
Looking at the devastation caused him to catch his breath,
The anguish all around made him want to cry.

Men woman and children all lay dead,
All had been repeatedly shot.
never to rise from their final resting bed,
They lie now waiting to slowly rot.

Wondering at this he put a hand in his pocket,
His fingers touched cold things and his mind awoke.
The bullets he touched caused memories to spin like a rocket,
His heart raced and his will suddenly broke.

In his other pocket he felt a warm gun,
And noticed he was covered in blood.
His memory told him this was the work he had done,
He had ended so many like a deluge or flood.

Why he did this he couldn't recall,
But there was now only one course of action.
It was time for him to take his final fall,
A shred of guilt still existed if just a fraction.

He withdrew the gun and put it to his head,
His finger wavered as he pulled the trigger.
His eyes filled with utmost dread,
As his fear became bigger and bigger.

Why had he done this deed?
What good would it accomplish?
Was he following some sort of creed?
Why BANG! ...