Chamber

The bullet slipped into the chamber- it 
spun
He felt he gave himself to chance

But he stopped, hot finger on cold trigger 

      If I DON'T squeeze, I give myself to chance;
  	If I DO, I endeavor to control chance all the more.

  	Another chance is what I want- not one less  

	choice as represented by that charged cylinder within its chamber  
	Time moves on trajectories of change;

	that is the chance I will give myself to 
and he embraces it

He rises in his mind, slips into a maze of halls, chooses a chamber - 
a rectangle of light to throw his soft shadow upon; 
Not a cylinder of hard darkness

	Let hot moment of chaos have me 
	not cold, still, infinite determination 

 he puts the gun in the drawer.
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