The Silent Storm

This poem is based on a true story: 

Soft-spoken, kind, a gentle face,  

Yet darkness stirred in a quiet space.  

A man of his words, a name they knew,  

But the storm within, none saw through.  

On that fateful day, the silence broke,  

A pistol’s roar, his anguish spoke.  

Four colleagues fell, their lives undone,  

By the hand of a friend with a loaded gun.  

Colleague escaped, the lucky one,  

Through chaos and death, he sought the sun.  

Crawling past shadows, past fear’s tight grip,  

He fled the truck, a narrow slip.  

To his ex-love’s house, the killer drove,  

A final act where pain’s thread wove.  

She washed her face, unaware of fate,  

A single shot sealed her cruel debate.  

Five hundred meters, his steps grew slow,  

To his own home, where despair would grow.  

A note he left, scratched without ink,  

“Traitors deserve,” was all he could think.  

In shock, his family mourned the man,  

Soft-spoken and gentle, they couldn't understand.  

A brother, a son, lost in the pain,  

A tragedy wrapped in a heart’s dark chain.  

But silence screams, a lesson to hear,  

Speak of your burdens, share every fear.  

For beneath the kindest, softest guise,  

A storm may brew in unseen skies. 

©Author Brian Makara 2025