The only time when the bullet pings
Is when it lost it's inner filling.
The only time when I flash a smile
Is when my soul has gone for a mile.

Weapons don't have soul.
I think I don't have one to own.
I speak with happiness
To cover the emptiness.

Just like a weapon, I was built
To bear all stress, grips and guilt.
So I keep on smiling,
With such sorrow under hiding.