Jacob Fite | + Follow Poet |
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The Captivating Captive

I can feel the pulsing thrust
The speeding tempo of the blood gust

I can fell the frigid circle
As if it is fastened to my face
I can hear the ticks and clicks
As you try and make haste

I can see the anger in your eyes
How much of me, you despise

I can feel the bruise,
the crack, the burn, the sting, the heat
With every blow, I smile
Every strike to the head, I greet

I can hear your loss of breath
This must be the only choice you have left

I can smell the stench of death
Exhuming from within me
The luke warm trickle of blood
Has unhinged the crime you oversee

Now there is nothing you can do
But wish for the power to kill me on queue

I can feel the concrete
And the burlap grip
My death is belated
For my life, I've been gypped

I can hear your loss of breath
This must be the only choice you have left

Copyright © Jacob Fite | Year Posted 2015

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