As the yellow light of the waning sun

Fades to the light orange of evening

the occasional shifting of a gun

but suddenly a small branch starts creaking

The one I have been waiting for has come

it is him as an old king on his throne

searching his kingdom for any signs of scum

searching for others he won’t condone

He slowly waltzed into the field to eat

as if he knew something was awry

his attention caught by another bleat

he lost his aim in a blink of an eye

the silence was taken by a loudness

after that came a heavy quietness