The shell falls
Following the boom
Where everything is still in motion
Like a whispy smoke trail
Rising steadily from an iron chamber
Or the shock received from an expected impact
That brings attention to the action
Down the sights
As a slight ringing bombards the senses
Into a state of catatonic ambiguation
It becomes clear that the target set
Is wholly unaffected
By the decision to shoot
In turn
Reducing the validity of the attempt
Yet it is not a wasted round
But grounds to attempt another shot
And another
Until the bullet hits the mark
Which is metaphorically
Your heart
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Failure is not an option
So we try
Try again