Short Tale 12

She walked down Oxford Street,

He was on the opposite curb,

Her red winter coat was flying apart,

He knew out of her life he had to depart,

She was of a different religion,

He believed in no caste, no bar or region…

 

She had flowers in her hand,

A diamond ring glistened on her finger,

He knew he had to pull the trigger,

He could not attempt on her cold blooded murder,

Yet she looked pretty as she laughed,

He knew it would be the last,

To choose her  would be betrayal to his cause,

She looked at him across the street,

Knowing at any second, he would pull the trigger, after all this was their last fatal meet….

 

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