Eat A Gun

A dark reflection of a moment of finality. Perhaps not everyone's cup of tea.

Eat A Gun

By Scott S. Batchelor

Will fire burn my mind tonight, a blackness take control?

Spirit wings would take to flight, the shadows in the hole.

Something schemes behind my cloak; you'll fall before this fear.

Nightmare rides the wind like smoke; yes you shall find me here.

In that darkness past your eyes within the breaking mind,

Here in you eternal lies a sickness you will find.

Reflected in a mirror deep; stare at the face of hell.

Never shall you rest to sleep; I live within your shell.

Lose yourself to find no good for never can you run,

For I am seldom understood until you eat a gun.