Chambered Dreams

I was born in the dark from the spark of a forge. Cold breath of

steel gave me form, gave me gorge. I sleep in a cylinder,

heart made of lead. My lullaby silence, my cradle, the dread.

I wait for a finger, for purpose to name. To feel the

explosion, to finish the aim. But until that echo runs wild

through the night. I'm just potential, afraid of my might. They call me

danger, they call me sin. But I just wait for

where I begin. I'm a chambered bullet, dreaming of flight. Living in stillness,