Automat Kalashnikova

Poem about something you cannot have.

Upon entering the room
there she lies; Automat Kalashnikova
pointed directly at my heart
with an enchanting gaze
but with all the glare
all that could be seen
was a headless peacock
feathers ablaze
I take cover without success
temptation overwhelming
I approach cautiously
as tears of Athena drip down the but
I throttle the trigger ineffectively
loading the magazine with slugs
Pull again; explosion on cue
On the floor I lay
bloodied, motionless without a bother