Final Shot

I looked at the target card in the near distance ahead,
My arm was outstretched – stable and without a twitch in any muscle, 
Index finger locked tight and ready to pull the trigger, 
Within sight only the tip of my gun and the inner ten region;

I pulled the trigger and everything became inanimate all at once,
My surroundings whirled into a blur and colourlessness flooded my sight,
As though everything came to a standstill – time froze at that very instant, 
And the reality in front of me started to change while a different target card came into place;

“That was a promising first shot there!” was what I heard and things came once again alive,
My arm was shaking – hardly stable and the same familiar object in my palm felt strangely foreign;

It looked slightly different yet I know it was mine – just less attached and somewhat more distant, 
Perhaps something like the first time I held it and it was so unclaimed and so untamed;

I took a glance around me and everything that was happening became clear: 

I was transported six years back in time to when it all started,
To the afternoon when I first laid hands on what I would come to call my own for the next six years, 
The moment the love affair with my gun started and I was so in love, 
The time when my name was first stuck onto its body and it became mine; 

I was brought back to when I took my first shot and where the passion was sparked,
When my arm was barely held in position and some of my shots were not even on the target card;

A silent tear crept down the side of my cheek:
Six tender years and endless unforgettable moments 
flashed before my very eyes in that single instant; 

The silence was yet again broken with the rapture that came from behind,
The pellet fired from my gun had pierced through the centre of the inner ten,
The score of the final shot of the detail soared the team to the top of the charts,
A championship victory and a trophy to take back was what my shot had owned and earned;

 Mixed feelings amidst the cheers was what overwhelmed me at that precise moment, 
A final competitive shot was fired and probably never again will my name appear on the scoring sheet; 

A new name will be stuck on and a new hand will take over what I called my very own for the past six years,
For yet again the cycle resumes and time continues  to see new faces and new shots aimed and taken; 

It has been said that the passage of time ensures that all things must come to an end, 
Yet for certainty I know fond memories in my mind and happiness in my soul will in their place content. 

– inspired by a bedtime conversation over the phone


One thought on “Final Shot

  1. Alright I know I lost it midway. I thought the start was slightly promising, and then things started going downhill when time stopped and traveled back. The distortion in meter and structure is deliberate to reflect the distortion in time and the unexpected nature of the moment (well okay, maybe I just couldn’t control the structure of it haha) The slight incoherence in certain parts is to reflect the emotions which are overflowing.

    Do leave me comments / tips!
    Take it as you will, and lend me a hand to make it a better shot if you are willing to.

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