The Three Empty Chambers

Thunderous echo through the still air,
Metallic taste, the stench of despair.
A life lost, seeking redemption's spark,
Son, brother, lover, a journey in the dark.

What compelled them to pull the trigger?
From brains to brawn, a soul's quiet rigor.
Red water spills on the cold, lifeless lawn,
A tragic tale unfolds, a soul now gone.

Another mournful echo, a mother's cry,
As she too succumbs, bids the world goodbye.
Triggers pulled, a somber symphony,
At the funeral, daughter sways in misery.

Her poison, a silent, deadly potion,
Loneliness and despair, a bitter emotion.
No one left for her to truly care,
A haunting void, an unanswered prayer.

Echoes persist, the gun's cruel song,
His Lover falls, love's melody gone wrong.
What force made her pull the trigger?
Secrets held tight, no one is the bigger.

The three chambers speak a silent tale,
A narrative of sorrow, a ship set to sail.
Imagery painted with blood on the ground,
A canvas of anguish, no solace found.

Metaphors echo in the shadows of the end,
Despair reflects in eyes that can't mend.
Loneliness lurks, silent and sly,
Lives fall to a mournful lullaby.

The funeral dirge, a heart-wrenching rhyme,
Echoes through the corridors of time.
Sounds weave a mournful thread,
In the tapestry of the departed, dread.

Alliteration whispers the night's woes,
Consonance echoes, a tragic prose.
Repetition tolls like a funeral bell,
Telling the story, a somber farewell.

Words whisper woes in the quiet night,
Sorrow repeats, heavy and tight.
After it all, only sadness unfolds,
In suicide's wake, sorrow takes hold.