A man tied to the wooden block
To be sacrificed like a sheep from the flock
His back all bare and exposed
Ready for the punishment proposed

Fifty lashes from the cat o’ nine tails
Delivered by a strong arm without fail
Till his body slumps to the floor
And his blood flows no more

The first few lashes merely kissed the skin
But soon he was screaming in pain
With every anticipatory whoosh of the whip
People were forced to watch in disdain

By the end his back was a work of art
All torn apart red and scarred
The blood in between forming a mesh
As if saving the soul from being marred

These Public whippings don’t happen now
But their essence lingers still
These latest weapons when thrown at hearts
Don’t harm the body, the soul they kill

They make you feel all in control
All the while draining your will to fight
They wound and scar and let it scab
Then wound all over to prove their might

They let you own your body, as they buy your soul
Chip by chip as they take away all hope
And so you let them play god
Thinking this as the only way to cope

Don’t you see what they have done?
They have killed you all one by one
Now all that lives is an empty vessel
As a proof that the have won!

TJ Khan
23-oct-2014