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dr-mike-oconnellPoems
Brian Patrick Plodding, trudging, slogging through the reeds Praying for death or at the very least – rescue Sweat and muck mingle as one Sliding down my face and pouring over my body Why me? I have no repair Looking behind; not a human in sight The arrows fly by whizzing in the dark Into the mud I go – fearful The light in the distance beckons My limbs giving way to the weight The rope catches my neck and tightens Into the Chart House dragged to no avail My captors start the endless mindless dance I am at the beginning of my long goodbye Dare I give them the dark secret they desire Never, never … … the blood trickles down my ***** neck.
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
The Chart House
Brian Patrick Plodding, trudging, slogging through the reeds Praying for death or at the very least – rescue Sweat and muck mingle as one Sliding down my face and pouring over my body Why me? I have no repair Looking behind; not a human in sight The arrows fly by whizzing in the dark Into the mud I go – fearful The light in the distance beckons My limbs giving way to the weight The rope catches my neck and tightens Into the Chart House dragged to no avail My captors start the endless mindless dance I am at the beginning of my long goodbye Dare I give them the dark secret they desire Never, never … … the blood trickles down my ***** neck.
© 2014 Brian Patrick
#dying#death#dark#water#pirates#torture#bleak#capture#dreary
dr-mike-oconnell
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dr-mike-oconnell
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
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