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I see the metal pointed at me.

It shines and reflects what I have done in my life.

The sound of it burrowing against my skull.

The cold, slick feeling of the end of the barrel.

It had more care than I did when it was being put together.

This machine was taken care of more than I.

It was cleaned. It was polished and caressed.

How can a machine have more friends than I?

It was wanted to be touched.

It was wanted to be played with by others.

For those who carry them.

For those who want them.

For those who can't live without them.

Please take mine, before it takes me.

Take it before I awake.

His world will see his demise.

His eyes will be filled with hate.

His heart will love those he doesn't despise.

His lost mind will be the cause of his fate.



Her troubles cause him trouble.

Her laughter brings him non.

Her problems are all in her head called a bubble.

Her torturing him is what she calls fun.



Bring me a knife for my life.

Bring me a gun for her fun.

Bring me a needle for my fate.

Bring me a prayer for my life.

Those who look at me, will always turn away,

Those who are generous, will always make me pay,



I don't know what I'm here for or what my journey will be.

All I know is that I'm alone ,and I can only depend on me.



People will offer to be my friends and tell me what I need to hear.

What they don't say is that they are demons and will play upon what I fear.



Don't ask me again what I'm going to do.

My quest will be over when my life is through.