You don’t have the right to one’s life, except yours.
Acting according to its nature, working its way to kill.
It has no identity to itself. It has no power of choice.
Just mix a few chemicals and a bullet is born.
Just shove it inside the weapon and a killer is born.
Just tuck it under your pant when a war is born.
Just pull the trigger and a man is dead.
It’s that day, when death is a ceremony.
It’s that day… it’s the day of the gun.
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