Russian Roulette (Part Two)

Art lit another cigarette and sat at ease,
I swallowed nervously, sniffed into my sleeve.
“Its my turn now,” Art held out Her hand,
Was this to be my chance to make my final stand?

“Bitch!” I cried, “You lying whore!
All you ever did was force me to do more!
Did I ever ask for you to whip and enslave me?
You made life a prison, not a canvas free!”

I shot to my feet, the gun was raised,
“Now its your turn to beg,” I screamed, crazed.
“I’m sick of being the one you always abuse,
Playing your fucking games and each time I lose!”

I stared at Art, angry and just,
“Now to you I’ll do what I must!”
I pulled that trigger and waited for the bang,
But Clicky Click is all the gun sang.

Art climbed to Her feet, made a demand,
And snatched from me the gun in my hand.
“Artist of mine, no matter what you do,
I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

Empty handed, I stared at the floor,
“You evil bitch,” I sobbed, my heart sore.
I dropped to my knees and felt my life fade,
“But what about that promise you made?”

“Oh, the one where I said I’d be yours and true?”
Art spat violently, ”Didn’t you know I was lying to you?”
My heart shattered and pain became mine,
I’d felt this before when I’d walked this fine line.

Each time Art began to wither and suffer,
I would caress Her like a long lost lover.
And from me She would draw Her strength,
Whilst I trailed behind on rope of some length.

“I died for you more than once,” I cried.
“I can’t believe you bare faced lied.”
I choked back another pitiful cry,
And upon my sleeve I wiped my eyes dry.

Up to Art I looked and I swear I saw Her frown,
Though it was masked by Her torn paper crown.
I cannot describe my hate of Art’s being,
I could not see through the haze of anger seething.

“Fuck you,” I whispered through the tears,
“Screw you and your Art, your obsolete fears.
Go ahead, Lady, put that gun to my head.
Lets see if this chamber is loaded, shoot me dead.”

With an air of satisfaction that chilled me to the bone,
Art took up my offer and asked “Ready to die alone?”
“Go for it,” I hissed and glared at Her coldly,
“I think you’re a coward to kill me so boldly.”

And then She laughed, a faintly heavenly sound,
It cut through my mind and the reality of which I’m bound.
“I remember what it was you once said,” I dreamed,
“That Art was violent and never serene…”

“Yes, I remember,” came the voice behind me now,
“Are you ready to test your Artistic vow?”
With a subtle nod, I slowly closed my eyes,
Waiting for the end of all the sadness and lies.

Clicky Click, the gun sang.
Listen now, its bang bang.