The Revolver Poem by Shraddhanand Srivastava

Tha revolver
with a bullet in it to trigger out
whom..?
A son turned blind
to father and mother,
A brother deceiving
with whom slept in th' same lap?
A man lying
in vicious arm of a coquet..?
The revolver
with a bullet to blow up
the mind that contains
the lethal phantoms,
the sensitivity
or rather hyper sensitivity
to the things couched
always in heinous hues?
Not Socretes to
be poisoned of
nor Jesus am I
to suffer for the people
and then to be crucified,
Who am I?
Is a Hamlet in me
with a deliberate insane
frame of mind?
No Ophelia to seek love of
nor Ratna to push me up;
The revolver
with a bullet to fire at
volcanic mouths
vomiting the cinders
that burn the human being in me;
None incarnated
to slay the Rvana and the Kansa;
No gardener to irrigate with
noble thoughts and uproot the weeds;
The revolver
with a bullet in it to shoot at
no one else but some one in me.