The Chair
And the world swivels,
Uneasily moves beneath your feet.
The Pupils stare at the heavens a moment,
the moment fleets away, as swiftly as it had come...
The chair still reverbs,
Coughs to remind it still has life,
Another spark and the hair on the neck stands on end.
The breath is held awaiting ...
Veins pump under the restrain,
limbs flinch, verifying their existance.
The arm wrestles with leather,
the mind with pain...
Drift into blankness,
would have been easier if there were a thought.
Beg for a dream, even a nightmare would do,
Eerie silence are just too much...
The ear twitches,
hears what moves in the black coil...
All is at peace with the world again,
for there is the white light they all spoke of.
Btw, I speak of the electrocution chair
0
comments
Labels:
Chair,
death,
poem
|
|
