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I the Assasinor

Today, too I am loaded with gun,
To kiss the person to the dusk of his life,
I always get worried when the trigger starts telling me,
'Come on, press me shoot the man.'
And, I have to press, as it's my job.
It's my work to make living fresh flesh to motionless corpse,
Else I cannot make my living,
Nor can I feed my family,
Today again I pulled the trigger,
Shed tears after making a body motionless,
No, its not crocodile's tears which means victory,
But, the tear is of sympathy,
Sympathy not for the dead man,
But for myself because due to his death my family is fed.

poem by Sambidhan Acharya
Added by Poetry Lover
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