Tim Baumann4/11/05

RedTheme Poem

Pray for Us Now and at the Moment of Our Death

They told him to die,

Every thought rushing like a raging torrent

His mind sent out a thousand cries

To die and flee to Heaven high,

And the voices would never repent.

Inexorable each one

And as such, he knew they were true

He had to fondle the gun

Get his life over and done

To release the pain all the way through.

He walked on the road

In the blackest of nights

The Moon carried not its silvery load

And the thoughts that still flowed

Continued their sadistic fights.

The vision of the evening

Turns to an ignorant man

Unknowing, not seeing

The boy not fleeing

From the voices, one sweeping cruel hand.

The driver leaned back

On the warm leather seat

Staring off into the black

Pebbles crackling like flak

Closing in on the clap of one child’s feet.

His dark mojack soaked up the light

His hair fell into his eyes

But the light was so bright

And it blinded his sight.

The boy swiveled towards his demise.

His green eyes sparkled

And his mouth formed to scream

The impact of the pickup felt

Like a sledgehammer against his head

And he dropped as if in a bad dream.

Spine splintered like glass shards

No one watched his crumpled body collapse

Watching his killer, that man in the car

And the boy on the road was gone too far

The voices’ harsh tones had silently lapsed.

He let the salty tears flow

The bitter tasting ones of pain and of fear

For he needed to know

How long he could live, so

He could be loving and full of cheer

The boy understood he didn’t want to die

He wanted to have absolution

From all of the people who had sarcastically sighed

And the people who he had made break down and cry

But far too fast, he was falling into the oblivion and,

Its cool touch, it caressed the boy

It wanted him to be one more friend.

The spirit of Death’s overpowering joy

The smile it flashed, loving and coy

Hovering silently above him, he met his untimely end.