Man wants the pistol fully loaded.
He wants the cool brushed steal,
the soft worn wood, the capacity for death.

Fearful of overcrowding - death loads a blank.  A ***** with no ammo.
No power over life or strength in death.
All this I needn't worry; I favour the knife.

Life pours icy smoke from chalice lips
Coloured with the flag of every nation.
Daren't a silver bangle fall tearfully to the pistol - barrel in mouth, I fear no evil.