In the chamber's cold embrace I lay,
A harbinger of despair, a silent plea.
Whispered secrets sealed in metallic skin,
Destined to bear the weight of a desperate sin.

Molded in the shadows I embraced my role,
Not by choice but by the hands that stole
A moment's respite in life's dark despair,
A choice, a whisper, suspended in the air.

From the barrel's mouth I was set free,
A messenger of sorrow, a tragic decree.
Through the void, I journeyed without refrain,
A vessel of anguish, an embodiment of pain.

Not for glory, nor a battlefield's embrace,
But to carve an exit from life's haunting space.
In that fleeting moment of cosmic disdain,
I traced a trajectory, untethered from the sane.

No solace in the cold metal that confined,
No redemption in the trajectory I defined.
A passage through the void, a desperate flight,
A silent scream swallowed by the endless night.

In the aftermath, echoes of a silenced cry,
A hollow testament to a soul's goodbye.
I bear witness to the aftermath's desolation,
As I rest in the silence of my own grim creation.