The long rope hung in the air
The song was playing in his head
The barrel spins, click
He heard the voice
You are in charge of your weapon, always
The day the weapon takes charge of you is the day we find you
The song plays in his head
The barrel spins, click
He wouldn’t die
The rope shook, but he wouldn’t die
He unloaded the magazine into his head
He'd done the decent thing
The song played in his head
The barrel spins, click
Images started to appear
He wouldn’t sleep
The house was the fortress now
The song played in his head
The barrel spins, click
The long rope hung in the air
He watched him walk away, smiling, inviting him
Destiny
The song played in his head
The barrel spins
The song plays into the distance.
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 20th, 2026 05:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
I love the effect of the repeating lines in this style that seems to have grown quite popular lately. It leaves a somber and heavy feeling. Nicely done Paul
Saves on thinking. lol
It has a special effect like the ringing of a bell with each knell overlapping the echo of the past.
A gripping read, Paul🕊️🙏🏻
Like the cheery ones. lol
Well done. Your poem explores themes of mental turmoil, the struggle with self-control, and the concept of fate. It presents a narrative of a person facing a dire emotional and psychological crisis, grappling with thoughts of violence and self-destruction.
Paul, I've known what it's like to have certain thoughts or memories replay themselves endlessly, refusing to stay quiet. Reading this brought that feeling back to me immediately. A haunting piece, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Yes, the mind is a dustbin of negativity at times.
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