The Warden

The Warden is angry again. He hangs his gun belt outside the door, and steps inside my dour cage- Fist full of razor blades. I can hear the heavy drops of mercurial cerise blooming as it hits the concrete. "Open your mouth, Son." My teeth raze through bits of cheek as they instinctively collide. Even in the face of a turbid shadow, I know what is coming- again. I clench, and push his sublimated hands away from my throat. Echoes of laughter illuminate throughout the Prison; throbbing inside my carapace alongside my heartbeat. "You know you can't win. You never do." As my body writhes I can feel the air in the room dissipating. A fire begins to kindle in my skull as a soft hand gently strokes my slick brow as if to say. "Give in." And yet, I fight. For hours. As the echoes only pound harder. Like the Bodhran drums of my forefathers whose blood gave me will. And yet, every man breaks in the face of Eternity. Every sin has its cost. -James Kelley 2018