an unloving hand

no emotion burns behind the flesh

steel,

molded in heat

filled with springs and pins

a machine, an instrument

just as the pianists emotion filled hands

give life to the piano,

so does the dead hand

give chemical life to his instrument

metal, nitrate, salt peter,

a chemical heart beats with life

deep in the machines core

the coldness melds into one,

the finger pulls

a hammer falls,

the chemicals exhale,

a heartbeat stops,

the hand falls.

 

again I’m not sure where I was in my life when I wrote this.  I’m certain it was during my dark years as I lost the need to write like this after I came out of them.  Not that this is great or anything, but the subject matter is obvious.  well, if I did it right it is.  the unloving hand (the hand that falls at the end) is one that has grown numb and feels nothing.  the steel instrument is a gun and it’s chemical heartbeat is the gunpowder \ bullet that beats in the chamber.  the coldness melding into one is picturing a cold emotionless hand picking up a cold emotionless instrument.  the rest should be self explanatory.