The Predators

By Stanley Collymore

 

A measured tread of footsteps on

the stairs, metal caps pounding on the

stone floor: ominous echoes resounding

alarmingly, quickening the pensive heart

drumming out its tattoo on the troubled chest

of the prisoner within his guarded cell, waiting

stoically, yet fearful of the imminent confrontation:

precursor to a deadly inevitability.

 

Tidal waves of thoughts surge forward unchecked �"

frenetic in their intensity, crashing down on the shores of

a receptive brain hopelessly at odds with reality; then fall back,

caught inextricably in the vortex of a thrashing mind. Abruptly

the orchestrated steps (choreographed by years of military

discipline) halt outside his door. A momentary pause:

deafeningly silent, and shattered only by the

cacophonous clash of metal upon metal -

discordant!  jarring!  brutal! proclaim

the arrival of the executioners.

 

ã Stanley V. Collymore

4^th July1970.

 

In memory of the last American soldier executed by firing squad.

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

Very gripping in the lines of this one...you feel as if you are the prisoner ready for final judgment for the guards to take you to your final resting place...