Gun, a dilemma of the evil and the good.
The evil day it drives; against evil hands it defends!
Considering the atrocities it’s used to cause, it seems we should never allow it.
Seeing its worst havoc, afraid we become
to live in our cities and streets without its protective shield.
Still we don’t know, how to channel its control.
To let go, we may still need it for good causes.
To rightly defend us, our good legitimate law enforcement forces need it.
To create gloomy deeds, the psychopaths that have it misuse it.
In the hands of unstable and untamed youth, a curse for sorrow, gun becomes.
Under the control of mentally-ill persons, the innocent souls are wasted.
To its evil hands, our little angels are vulnerable.
Unharmed of us, its dark days we are afraid.
Our precious old ones, its gloomy visit they never wished.
Like an atrocious stranger, whose action reflects horrors,
gun turns to a dangerous weapon, where it’s wickedly hosted.
By its unseen poison, the unstable persons are sadistically hypnotized.
With its intoxicating wine of barbarity,
its uncontrolled opportunist is drunk.
In unstable societies with war conflicts,
it becomes a woeful companion of wars.
In advanced countries, it takes
destructive advantage of freedom of its use.
All over the world, gun misuse
is still not under full control.
Gun, like an “evil-hypnotizing” tool,
it maintains sadistic mind-control of its unstable
owners and opportunists.
It charges its owner, who has deceptive insanity, to end it all.
Its evil aftermath painfully hurts more,
and seems to overshadow its good sides.
Its echoes of calamities keep bringing recurrent horrible noises.
In the hands of good legitimate law forces, like a protective shield,
it’s championed to drive the evil days away.
A good and obedient servant, gun is turned,
when to protect the city, it’s used.
Gun is never a good friend,
when by the unstable minds, it’s possessed.
In Almighty God, our last resort resides.
As night gives birth to the new day,
and fresh dawn welcomes the morning glow,
stepping out of our abode, very essential, toward God, our spirits to lift,
and in prayer to whisper:
To the dangerous side of the gun, let us not come by.
With its insane users, let not our paths cross.
From its evil days, save us.
- By DadGist.com (This is a literary work for peace) This poem is dedicated to the precious souls, who were lost to the gun’s atrocities in the United States and the whole world, and to literarily promote peaceful “No” to gun misuse and support improved gun control policies in America and globally.
