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karin naude Mar 2013
try as you might
your dictated actions will never dictate mine
by the grace of my God
my actions shall be my and my choosing alone
not if it pleases thee
i will not live on my knees
i will serve no master
i will not be dictated to
you forget just my clean conscience needed
not both of ours
for a deep night sleep
your actions clearly misplaced hostility
actions not thought through
when investigated , ooh bad spot light
your honesty wont save this ship
too little too late

someone's head will be needed for the crowd
appeasement if you will
my money is on you
or will black mail save you once more
lets be honest, you know no other way
the game played by secrets
Harriet Cleve Aug 2018
...the threshold of a borrowed day stood before him mocking his manhood. He had refused to die when the levers of death were unleashed.A scorched black skull betrayed the ineptitude of mechanics. Yes, he had tremored and shook violently when the surge of electricity flowed throughout his flesh and veins. The vividness of the images projected from his memory onto his brains widescreen
horrified the very mind which had committed the atrocity of ******.

It was his hand he saw brandishing the footstool and crashing it into the terrified head of his neighbour. The frenzied last minute pathetic attempt of his victim to defend the most vicious injury inflicted with severe hostility. He heard once again the anguished brief scream screeching in the last desperate utterance of his victim. The pulped brain tissue seemed to spatter in microseconds and with it every thought and memory once possessed by this desecrated being
sprayed his face and accused him of wanton cruelty.

The eyes too accused him and stared with bitter intensity until their life force blinkered out and suddenly it was dark.

One brief instant caused him to bite on his tongue and split it in two as the electricity claimed justice shaking his conscience with bitter recrimination, defying him to live and yet live he did.

An unexpected power cut severed the link between life and death.
He was only aware of the eyes of the living in the death cell looking on incredulously at this unwanted twist of fate. The smell of burning flesh was like a taste of the fires of hell and damnation.
He knew too he had survived and took a callous satisfaction in his phyric victory,

As they warden unstrapped the clamps from his wrists and legs he felt a tangible relief. Fate had intervened and taken his side.

Suddenly through the door came a family member of his victim brandishing a wooden footstool as if he had suspected justice would take an absence of leave. Holding it high above his arms he swung it down on the head of the murderer and smashed his brains to a pulp.
A ****** had claimed a murderer and in that moment of terror the air was permeated with the fragrance of rough justice.

Silence settled on the scene and the tragic realisation that violence lay within the grasp of every man who chose to act on mindless impulse.

The power suddenly returned and an arc of electricity flashed in the air. It came too late for all who had come to see righteousness
prevailing.

Tomorrow another man would await the threshold of a borrowed
day.
Debbie Brindley May 2017
There's times of extreme happiness
Lifes filled with song, dance and sound
There's times of extreme anger
Please keep your eyes to the ground
There's times his face distorts with hostility
He's so filled with rage
His behavior he can not help
His behavior he can not gauge
There's times of great confusion
About his life he hasn't got a clue
There's times of not remembering
The face of his best friend and his mother too
There's times his body aches
from the constant walking he must do
There's times of great fatigue
from taking care of you
There's times people tell me I should put him in a home
But how do I do that and leave him there alone
So that's not going to happen because he's staying right here
With his wife who loves him and my sister who holds him dear
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