paused, not moving, I remain constant in my frame,
my eyes roam sparatically grasping hints of my surroundings,
to the left, two armed men, wearing all black,
a bookshelf only no books, it's stacked full of dust,
in front, a pistol, chrome plated, cold on my forehead,
the holder, the man who I flicked off the other day,
behind him, my loved one, screamin at voice's apex,
behind her a clock, with-which I try to focus my thoughts,
to the right, and also behind, cinder-blocked walls,
cold from death and orange stained from past events,
slowly as I watch the hand climb back up towards the twelve,
the chamber turns, all other noise stops, and last I heard... a bang,
the fraction of a second I lived, as the rest of me died,
I fell to to the floor, I died frozen in time.

blah, I don't like it.....opinions?