Seven Times Gunshots Rang

(A Villanelle for Philando Castile)

The end came sudden and without remorse,
panic soaked the hand that held the gun near,
seven times gunshots rang with deadly force.

A child in back seat meant nothing of course,
A mother’s scream for help no one can hear,
the end came sudden and without remorse.

Fear is language spoken without discourse,
the grip of the grave that sprays through the air,
seven times gunshots rang with deadly force.

Philando laid powerless like a corpse,
each breath a gasp for life as death loomed near,
the end came sudden and without remorse.

Nothing can save him, there is no recourse,
only blood flow to make life disappear,
seven times gunshots rang with deadly force.

Put down like an animal, a sick horse,
the hunter’s mind made when he saw the deer,
the end came sudden and without remorse,
seven times gunshots rang with deadly force.

Matthew J. Lawler is a poet and Chicago native. He has been published in numerous literary journals, including, The Miscreant, Sick Lit Magazine, Caravel, Visual Verse, Unlost, Tuck Magazine, People's Tribune, forthcoming in an anthology( The Best Emerging Poets of Illinois) by Z Publishing. He lives to write and writes to live. You can find him on Facebook at www.facebook.com/matthewjlawlerpoet Read other articles by Matthew J..