Down The Barrel.

Have you ever stared?

Looked down the barrel of a gun?
Perhaps it was a rifle, for battles to be won?

From whatever direction you look at it, Something will surely be lost,
From aft to foresight. Or the other end,
Pulling that trigger exacts a cost.

It may be an innocent life you take!
Perhaps they had it coming?
But as you squeeze, compression builds,
Think of what you may lose and are loving.

It's just a piece of metal to fly?
And you will not feel a single thing!
But a mother without a son or daughter,
Or a farther with bread to win.

That thing that you hold, so bold with pride!
Will never fill that empty void,
When you squeeze upon that trigger!
All you loved has been destroyed.