Contradiction

I shot a guy stab, stab but almost like a  poem of old he stood up on two legs and crawled  away. The entry wounds made were two slits not ricochets. At Midnight he died with the sun burning bright, to his grave he went 6ft high. I killed a blessed guy two stabs one each eye! I'm the evil one as the poem unfolds, a killer free to roam about a page from a story author  made!

Written by MD (c) copy right protected