I am of the warrior breed,
cruel and heartless.
Each time I take a life
I lose pieces of myself
embedded in my targets.
Then I’m reloaded
restored and whole
born again
with a single magazine.
I am a conduit of my master’s will.
Whatever they wish
is my command,
my duty to uphold
with a crackle of
rippling
red-hot energy
the peppery scent of gunpowder
poisons the atmosphere.
The deed is done.
Sometimes I wonder –
What if I could shoot water?
Or T-shirts?
Or marshmallows?
Would the world be a happier place?
The thoughts are fleeting.
My steel flesh
reforms its icy exoskeleton
unleashing a new onslaught
of lead and death
war after war
victim after victim.