Killing with Numbers

Ten windows
Broken glass and shattered panes
Wind whistles through the rooms again.

Nine doors
Closed, every last one
Before the killing has even begun.

Eight light switches
It's lucky that one control
Controls them all.

Seven steps
Between what was
And what will be.

Six trinkets
Laying in a row
Three medals, two trophies, and one bow.

Five humans
Taking up space
My God, what a horrible waste!

Four minutes
Until the clock completes its path
Too short, too long, what about that?

Three bullets
One for each room
True aim, no boon.

Two wars
Warring in my head
Let them live, or leave them dead?

One sound
Fills the night
The murderer has fallen
Killed by his own light.