Bear Arms

The right to bear arms, read the other way. Two bears under a full moon: the purple one wears its heart outside; the black one wears the history, sigils scratched into the fur, fire in the eyes, one tear falling. Above them the sky we actually built: PATRIOT lettered down a climbing missile, drones hovering, and one white rocket punching through a red balloon mid-burst. Bombing the innocence from the sky, one balloon at a time.