Open Poetry 9 - Not Worthy of Life

An outcome more preferable than becoming a slave. Peace beyond dreaming on the way to my grave. Accused and found guilty, I was not remanded. Inflicting retributive punishment is what I was handed. The noose hung before me, my future to die. Onlookers glaring in silence, then an insidious cry. Relentless struggle to take in air, my voice so rasp. Agonizing, laborious striving to inhale, I gasp. Monotonous effort, to force my body to breathe. All energy spent, a body not worthy of life, I seethe. Too weak to continue, as hopeless as it seems, To end this misery, was only in my dreams. A calm settled as images of my bygone years showed. The irony of death giving me life was blissfully bestowed. All pain diminished, as visions of heaven came to me. The brightest light was all my vision allowed me to see.