Image: Andy WarholWho are you to judge,
who are you to call me a murderer?
I don't regret the blood splattering,
as my bullet hits that perfect spot,
I love the sounds it makes,
it's the buzz and rhyme of my life,
the sound that keeps my breath going.
I load my power, give it a pull
and let it flow beautifully into life.
Have you ever looked into
a dying man's eyes?
Do you know the innocence
in that last miniute,
the complete surrender to
destiny and the vision of God?
My gun's all I got.
I don't want your morals,
your decisions, your attempts
to make me hate myself
as his child and wife
cry their eyes out
and call me a monster.
Man has been killing man
for centuries.
Why single me out
for those moments of pure joy?
Don't you kill roaches,
watch them tremble their
destroyed limbs, waiting till
they are still forever?
Don't you take lives everyday?
I don't consume my victims,
I don't preserve them,
I don't label them,
I only liberate them.
You can't understand me,
don't think your physical torture
will affect the way I think or feel.
It won't.
Give me back my gun,
give me back my magic wand,
give me back my essence,
and watch me blow your brains out,
boom, boom, boom,
the sound of the universe,
destroying and rebuilding itself.
3 comments:
Interesting viewpoint....from the point of view of the gun pointer, I think this is exactly what he feels.I think it's a brave attempt aurora but in these times you will find it hard to make people sympathize with this aspect..
But why sympathise?
Why take the justification?
Why give him back his gun?
mithe and mampi: this is not an attempt to sympathise with anyone. i'm not proclaiming right from wrong here. This is only the working of another mind. It can be a delusional one at the best. Don't get me wrong. My job is not to take sides, I'm merely presenting an individual case, not defending it.
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