Splitting Branches

An Oak tree in the darkness,
Choices are it's seed.
Outcomes are the fruit, the food
That splits the bark in two.
Point it over here, dear,
And shoot me 'till I'm dead.
The gun will split the world in two
With each explosion or each click.

Silence in the centre,
Bleeding from my core.
So grows the fruit of the oak tree,
That will split the world apart.
Cracks show through the air,
And light shines through the gaps.
Jump to that other branch,
Where I live a second longer.

The bullet still hides in the barrel,
With anticlockwise rotation
Around the copper shell.
I am alive and I am dead,
Even if I don't know.
We'll stay here forever, my love,
One who is shooting,
And one who is shot.
Now we shall never die, in a way,
But remember, don't ever stop.