Drawing a Blank
We picked up straws one by one,
Were chosen just by chance.
And thirteen men were drawn by lots,
With power to play God.
We marched in ordered single file,
To the armory went,
Each was given a tool of death
To kill with legal writ
Lone post stood in the central yard,
Pocked with pustilent sores,
Yet sturdy for a human weight
Without a bend or break.
We stood in single solemn row
Muttering silent prayers.
The hapless man was brought amain
And stood before the post.
His hands were tied around the mast
Blind-folded was he then,
Yet proud he stood without a fuss,
Moments before his death.
There was ammo in guns out there
Yet some were duds by law.
Oh how I hate the Firing Squad
I hope I draw a blank!
The sergeant in his booming voice
Said aim, we took our aim.
Fire, he said, in firmer tone.
We pressed the trigger then.
Lord, I had prayed with all fervour,
Let me not be the one
Who spills the life blood of this man,
Lord let mine be a blank!
The stutter of the guns were stilled,
Man was ragdoll now.
I sighed and saw my gun was jammed
I'd drawn a blank indeed!
So now I sleep with conscience clear
The Good Lord jammed my gun
And forever spared me the doubt
If I had drawn a blank!
¬ 11 May 2016 ¬
Copyright © Karam Misra | Year Posted 2016
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