Death, at arms length
Made to fit in my hand so sweetly
The black steel grip
feels like I mean something
The slave for my anger
A powerful blame
A home for my victimhood
An outlet for my pain
at muzzle velocity
I don't even have to touch them
I can simply squeeze - just lightly
To **** them
All of them
Even the ones I don't know
They're collateral damage of my hatred
My anger is big enough for anyone to die for
Even myself
And this piece, will be my release
At 30 lives in a clip, I'll release so much
It will be over so fast. BAM!
They won't even know what hit them.
Neither will I