Those
sharp lines, the alluring pull of power...
Elegant,
with the gleaming of any metal...
My hand
caressed over its cold body...
The toy
of death, heavy in my palm...
Fits
like parts of a jigsaw...
Felt
like it’s made for this moment...
An
epiphany... an urging clout to do something insane...
To pull
that trigger... to do something heretic...
The
futility of the life pushed me more...
And in
a capricious, inebriated moment...
My mind
bowed to that whim...
The toy
vomited a metal bead, a bead detached from its cocoon...
Propelled
with the force of fire, swirling through that barrel...
It
seared through my temple...
Making a
tunnel through my memories and drilling my skull...
Numbness...
no images flashed through my eyes...
No
noise heard and no throbbing pain...
Only
the wetness of dripping blood through the vacuum of my temple...
And my
torso collapsed to the ground...
Floor
becomes crimson and wetness was the last thing I sensed...
And
finally I was at peace....
ah impulsive.... nijooo i have an urge to the pull the trigger too now... wat a fab poem! this is ur best so far! mind blowing.... hats off man!! and the peace... how i crave it...
ReplyDeleteme too... and to lie there in my own pool of blood....
Deleteand thanq niya...