Russian Roulette. Poem by Perfection Is Flawed
Russian Roulette.
Click
In the resounding darkness
Spin, a blur of
cold steel
a metallic merry-go-round
where someone may/will/must
get off.
The scent of gunpowder
choking, it fills your lungs
your senses
your
World.
Fear or Anticipation
Nervous Excitement, this is all that you know
now.
Put it to your forehead,
against your mind
this weapon that’s your universe
pull the trigger.
Gunshot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 9:22:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
