Did I fear, no more, my neighbor, next door
Since, I too bought, the finest firearm
In the soul, of fear, faith’s, lasting metaphor
What a myth, of conviction, did I farm!
Alas, i had one, and, my neighbor, had four!

“License To Kill”; “Death Served, Very Hot”
That’s how, he sold, GP100, to me
Between faith, and fear, was poised, my thought
“How could, life be safe, in, death’s custody!”

To kill, and die, by bullet, is our right/rite
Cold enigma, of, warm, American dream
Lest, a fatal flaw, in law, ignite
One day, funeral, of a, reckless regime!

Indeed, myth, it was – “Fear fights, fear’s cause”
I fathomed, when a gun, brought down, my son
Neither, one more gun, can, make up, my loss
Nor, Fear Of Bullet, In The Faith, Of Gun!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra