Authored: October 6, 2017

This poem is firstly a representation of the hatred and the darkness that those who mass murder people; secondly the poem is an indictment about our own need to saturate ourselves in violence and thirdly the poem is a remembrance of those lost. (Mature Themes)

I

He awoke with the plan sorted
Everything was at the ready
He'd be remembered, and he would die today
But he would take many other souls with him
There are those souls within that the marred in darkness
From a culture that is soaked to the bone with violence
From movies of blood and gore
To video games of shoot em ups
Rage blurs the line
The psychopath grows into a man
Buys guns and ammunition
He sees those around him as weak and ready for the plucking
He knows he is protected by the right to bear arms
He smiles that morning as he drinks his last beer
Looks into the mirror and flashes a toothy smile
Show time.

II

Those below, seeking fun and laughter
Are dancing to a DJ in this strobe lit dance club
Grinding bodies, drinking people
Love is blossoming, passion is firing
It is happening...love and beautiful happiness
Above them the man gets ready
Silent and yet all he sees below him are fools to kill
The psychopath has chosen
Protected by the laws of holding a gun.

III

Over the music, pops are barely heard
Screams of people in joy thinking this is an add on
Until a woman jerks and blood covers her face
Suddenly panic ensures
As this man uses all the implements of hell
The man is laughing as he murders souls below
He knows as he shoots himself dead that
the media will paint him as a lone wolf
And his brethren the Conservatives will fight for gun rights
It's not the gun that kills....
He watches the carnage, and he is getting aroused
He has seen it happen so many times before.

IV

Let the night roar....
The music cuts off as the DJ is shot
The screams of the fallen and the panicked take over
The man releases a last image he has taken
To his social media with a caption
"This was my fucking right...."
Then he pulls a handgun and shoots himself dead.

V

And this shall repeat in the land of the free
Yes, keep praying for the fallen
As the armament companies make more guns
And gun stores sell them
To the mentally ill, to the psychopaths to the narcissists
And rinse, repeat, rinse....

VI

The media cycle will move on
But not the families of those lost
The politicians will bleat about terrorism
But the real terrorism is allowing
Death in the hands of psychopaths
Yeah, let's pray.... keep praying
I'm sure it matters
Till the next time.

Epilogue

The young girl who lost her mum
The young boy without a father
The mother without her daughter
Children lost
Families broken up
This isn't about ideology
It is about how we as a species adore violence
It manifests
Manifests in the most destructive ways.