Weapons

When I saw him, I was reminded;
Holding him was like a snipper riffe.
At nightfall, we both aimed with bullets loaded,
but without night, and with bodies coated;
The corpse of us has long been bloated.
None of us pulled the trigger, none of us ever took the shot.
We are now, far beyond that spot;
But I was reminded, of what we once out of eachother got,
when he was again standing in front of my eyes lot.
Weapons are dangerous, so they say,
but I'd love to hold one again, if I may?