in order to know
that you're really in love
consider the question,
as proof that you're not
Disorder's a tongue
which taste buds are gone
your teeth, they grip the metal
your hands they hold the gun
~
Force, behind a motive.
Grasp, within a Click.
it'll all be over fastly
While calmed, by soft music.
~
Focused; the picture clears
The fears have came and gone
You swallow gulps of metal
Your hands slip off the gun