Guns and Roses

Shimmering pale grey barrel,
Laying softly in my hand,
Collecting all my pain and suffering,
Until in feels like it will explode.

Inches from my dazzling eyes,
Staring me down like common cattle,
Growling, threatening to end my life,
I do not fear my fate.

Breathing calmly I think it through,
Pressing the cold steel against my temple,
Until I can no longer take the stress,
Then I pull the trigger.

Medium coffin carried gently,
Friends and family drawing closer,
Sad clear tears escape their eyes,
While placing roses on my grave.