Poetry: Assonance, Metaphor and Imagery... Oh My!

So, I've been told I need to write more, since people (real people!) seem to enjoy reading my ramblings.
Whether that's a widely accepted opinion or not is still up for debate, but as I was made aware of it by my Creative Writing teacher (who is an actual writer) I think I'll take it. Here's a poem that she particularly liked; I'm not sure if it's one of my best pieces or not, though it's probably my best poem. It was originally supposed to be a narrative poem, but it has a ton of sound mechanics and such. I really have no idea how I got to writing on the topic it's about, but the direction of my thoughts rarely make sense to me, so I hope you like it:

His boots were heavy,

Swollen with sand and grit.

The sun hung high,

In the pale, arid sky.

It's hue gray and lifeless.

A Sharp glint shown from some distant dune,

Like the flash of a—

“Sniper!”

A deadened thud lifted him,

Threw him like a ragdoll.

Bones broke,

Cracked and shattered.

Blood splattered on the dusty dune,

The warm ooze bubbled up,

Slick and sickly sweet.

Shouts were shouted,

Distant and faint:

“Did it go through? Did it go through?”

His vest was pulled,

A knife produced,

The Kevlar mesh cut and hacked.

He gasped at the pain,

Sucked the rusty, life-giving poison down,

Down deep into his lungs.

It went through.