Guilty as Charged (aka The Shot)
Hollering at my airs now;
Alpha proud I was then,
Guilty as Charged! – The final verdict.
Hunched in merciful countenance;
Loitered in the potter’s field,
My heart accepted, I murdered;
Decapitated with the blow,
Squashed in flesh and plowed;
Panged with greenness,
Ousted of the corporeal puffer;
Pierced the reservoir of sentiments,
Strawed into his bosom;
Not now, his eyes spoke,
Bulls eyed unlike my kinsmen;
Was I or the terrene swiveling?
Striations of sharks broiling;
Jet-setting as the lightning,
Perceived the allusion;
Gusty I was, at the wind,
Relishing in shock;
Barreled out of the snout;
Clamored at my back,
Saw the philadelphiatic mayhem;
Set upright, I waited…
The pandavas tiring first;
Loaded as Frances Judds glove mystery,
Brahmasthram he kissed me;
Shook hands with the alliance;
Red-lettered among the battalion;
Licensed to kill,
Annealed, but not the vampire;
There I stood…
My name ‘Silver Bullet’!
Benumbed and scrammed,
Forged from the finest material;
‘Grains of metal make a bullet’
Looking now at my guilt….
Of all the things I can become,
I was made to kill…
I was made to become a ‘Bullet’;
I did my duty. Did you?
My conscience yells at my arrogance, I was proud when I was born (I was ignorant), Guilty as charged was the final verdict, I waited with a guilty expression in my face.
Looking back…. I was swimming in the dead persons bloody pool, At his last breath I realized I am a murderer, My head was blunted with the blow, squeezed among the flesh and I collided with the bone
The pain of ignorance and arrogance hit me, I came off the physical heart, I went right through the heart filled with emotions (non physical), I made a hole into his chest.
Not now were the words from his eyes, I did not miss the target like the previous 5 bullets, Before I hit I was spinning fast and wasn’t sure whether it was me or the world spinning, the barrel striations burnt my metallic body.
I was traveling real fast, I understood from the hints of what happened a moment ago, The wind was blowing hard at my face and I was streamlining, I was at shock of the sudden acceleration
I came out of the guns barrel, I was hit at my back by the trigger, Before I was shot I saw the other bullets going haywire missing the target, I was loaded in the barrel and was next to go
The 5 bullets were shot one by one before me, I was loaded as the last/sixth bullet (Frances Judd wrote the famous classical novel ‘The six fingered glove mystery’), Before loading I was thought to be the right bullet to kill the opponent by my master, I met all the other bullets before we were loaded in my masters hands
I was standing proud in the box of bullets, I was ready to kill, I was quenched of the heat of manufacturing but my blood thirstiness was still there, There I waited in the manufacturing industry to be packed
I call myself Silver Bullet, Forged and hardened, made from the finest metal, metal extracted from the rocks