The Killing machine
By AJ O’Brien.
Hands imprisoned, ringed with steel
climbing an empty black hall.
Don’t wanna go there
I pull back, stumble and fall.
Careless hands dirty nails
pull me upright, crush my soul,
leading me onward and down
toward my final goal.
Our footfalls cease
empty sounds collide,
beyond this ugly door
gonna take the ultimate ride.
Before me it stands
one hundred miles high,
my crimes are laid bare
am i really about to die?
I hear the audience breathing
I begin to cry.
Don’t deserve to live
but don’t wanna die.
Shiny leather straps
kiss and lock me down,
gonna be the very first.
Don’t wanna wear that crown.
The switch is caressed
against the straps I strain,
Oh dear sweet Jesus
this is way beyond pain.
I’m dancing, dancing
beneath a summer’s rain,
and I promise, promise
I will never kill again.
You’re still a master of the macabre, darklling Alan! Bravissimo👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
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Thank you so much, my friend.
It’s so good to hear from you again. 💕
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😍
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May God keep you safe during this health crisis, Alan.
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Thank you dear Anna.
And you also. stay safe.
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This is so poignant! And a very eloquent argument against the death penalty. Well done, Alan! Gave me chills….
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Thank you very much Ann.
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Paralyzing content. Oh, man…
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Thank you very much.
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I think you captured the condemned’s final thoughts and emotions here, Alan—fright, disbelief, contrition, and empty promises. Well done! 👏👏👏
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Thank you Kathy.
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good stuff, blessings my friend
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Terrifying, but a brilliant poem Alan 🙂
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Thank you very much, Michele.
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Wow!!!
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Many Thanks Rita.
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It’s fabulous 😊👏🏻
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😀💕😀
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Wrenching.
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Thank you Anna.
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A visual story told well via poetry.
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Many Thanks Karina.
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