I wrote this poem in correlation to my view of a dystopian world, but I wanted to mostly focus not on the dystopia in general but of the mentality of the people who enforce the dystopia, and what they do if they can't live with their decisions.
And so I turn the gun
And so I turn the gunA choice, him or me
Revolver in my trembling hand
On this shallow poem we stand
He looks at me with a silent plea
Yet I point the gun at his head
My thoughts filled with dread
In this fleeting moment I wonder
What is his worth compared to mine
Does he have a lover to entwine
Will his death make his family sunder
My brain tells me to pull the trigger
For the last time I will be a killing machine
In the end I realize I’m out of vigor
And so I turn the gun, cold metal feels serene
Coating the underpass in my blood
My body falls to the ground with a final thud
But as long as this man doesn’t wilt
I will be relieved of any guilt
Poetry by Artorius
Read 7 times
Written on 2026-05-24 at 03:18
Tags Serenity Remorseful Bleak
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