The Silent Professional

A soldier crawls along a forest floor
A match grade barrel to do his chore
Blending with the woodland scene
He leaves no trace of where he’s been

A single task occupies his mind
To the outside world he is blind
One single task, one single goal
Only his mission occupies his soul

He moves into the open grass
The enemy patrol makes a searching pass
Although they look, they can not see
The man moving out from a distant tree

One hour, two , three then four
He only moves a few feet more
Zero hour is getting near
He knows his target will soon appear

A single man he has been sent to kill
And on his hands this man’s blood will spill
The moment is now, the target’s in sight
Taking up the first pressure the shoot feels right

One ounce more on the trigger sear
The bullet races away like a high speed spear
It races throw the air with a thunderous crack
There’s a fountain of blood as it exits the man’s back

The silence is deafening there’s not a single sound
As the shooter removes the case of the single spent round
His task now done he fades back in to the wood
His only trace is a body where a man once stood.

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