The Drawing of the Three
by thomas l futrell
Sunday, October 06, 2002
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DRAWING OF THE THREE
TGREAPER2002
She stands, hands bound
before the council. The reaper
looks down upon her, cards of
fate in his hand.
He draws the first.
Neck turns purple,
flesh tightens, blood
seeps from blue lips.
Second card.
Invisible nylon burns
bruised flesh. Her
twitching body held
aloft like a hand puppet.
Death laughs as he drops
the final card on the table.
Neck snaps in two, her
final cries met by wicked
cheers. A life lost to the
world, a soul, forever at
death's chamber door. |
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