Steel Beasts Whisper...
There's sweat
on my upper lip...
Wetness on my palms
cause the steel to slip.
Tighten my grip,
nows the time;
gone is the girl
who used to shine...
It gleams in the light,
black and silver,
like the tears that run,
down my cheeks, like rivers...
Finger the bits,
before putting one in.
Cool little stones,
filled with murder and sin...
My hand cocks it,
then runs across the barrel.
My mind begins to take it in
the almost-action and fills with terror.
I close my eyes,
to push away the fear...
Bring up the beasts mouth,
and let it whisper in my ear...
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.