Bomb gone off, the buildings fall
running without arms
hopping without a leg
a man will leave behind his very soul
to flee from pain

And yet still dreaming
despite shrapnel and debris
embedded in my flesh
coursing through my veins

Dare not to dig it out
make the wound bigger
and yet to cleanse my heart
(tears now dripping like drops of blood)
every beat the bullet fragment
I can feel it nearing its destination
whether point blank or this slow poison
a bullet in the heart is always fatal