The Nameless Man : A Freewrite Poetry.

My inward trust still intact
To what end am I
Looking deeply in the eyes of death
None could tell the place of my birth
A perch, look, search
In the mirror I ask, what am I.
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One down, two more bleeding
There eyes ask for mercy
That I need, in me really lacking
A pregnant wife, a fatherless son
A gun shot made one more
The question I asked was simple
Who do I resemble with this dimple.
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The smell of blood, the hunger for flesh
None ever left me for dead
The odour of afterlife filled with horror
Men have killed without honour
Begged for there lives, I didn't concur
Mercy, grace, Second chance, not in my dico.
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Done, OK, replies as always
Find, plan, hunt, kill all day
Till time went bye, never came
The journey getting too long
Perhaps, a trap set for more
Strap at the waist, neck turn
Followed by a deep bullet gun.
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An entry into @Mariannewest everyday freewrite