WITNESS...

Yes, you were there...

The chafe and burn of hemp ropes

On your wrists, ankles and around your neck

As you were led, powerless, to your fate...

The stinking breath of the drunken guard

Who saved your life for his own pleasure

The metallic taste of a gun barrel jammed into your mouth,

The barrel leaving an open wound in your palate

And the trigger guard bruising your soft lips

Just to remind you how little choice you have

As you struggle to survive,

But pray for death...