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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1270949
Electric chair longer version
Vomit moist upon my tongue,
From my last solid dream.
Visions of destruction, pain and death,
Brought upon by my devilish scheme.

Eyes reach their widest degree,
Realizing soon they’ll shut complete.
I attempt to withhold all of my fear,
Stomach clenched as if stabbed by a spear.

Chest sways, thumps, quickens it’s beat,
Pulse tingles through to my feet.
Terror prompted by those malign,
Beating headache, start to die.

Body rigid, attempting to quake,
My mind slowly starting to break.
Temperature drops, followed by a shiver,
Hands clench to conceal the quiver,

Man of God enters to pray for my soul,
Under his breath he screams to the Devil.
To see me to hell is his goal,
Communicating my crimes to both levels.

Now enters chains to bind my feet,
Walk to the butchered tree, I’ll soon meet.
Here sat those that felt my isolation,
As well as it’s salvation.

Barred down, metal etched into wrists,
The clock’s hand seeming to stick.
Authority fades from my wits,
As decisions start to weigh in thick.

Do I feel any remorse?
No.
Throw the switch, bring it quick.
Release me from the prison I hate
© Copyright 2007 Sean M. H. Delaplace (hitman23000 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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