Numberless Crimes

I was badly shaken― 
by the strange 
gene expression. 

When a bullet― 
made a hole in your chest, 
blood spilled on my book. 

Ultra-conformist, 
plummets to a new low. 

You would not alter 
like the moon's pain 
and sun's tears. 

Coming to a critical 
threshold, when we talk 
about the death. 

I would say god 
was the killer.