The Iron Fist of Retribution


The Iron Fist of Retribution

By Tony DeLorger © 2011

I pace, I panic,

riddled with anticipation,

not calm, not excited but fraught

with my possible demise.

One mistake,

one lapse of good sense,

a blink of misdirection,

an ignorance of code.

Now I’m living in hell,

my own blade

snug against my neck,

the inevitable conclusion of wrong.

The ticking of my watch resounds,

its incessant beat like my heart pounding,

my breath short, my mouth dry.

My time is almost up,

and what have I to say,

but the mere words of a corrupt,

and fruitless mind.

I am wracked with guilt,

throwing away my life so carelessly,

so pointlessly abandoning all I believe,

everything my father tried to explain.

Help me God, I pray,

don’t forsake me now,

even though I have committed sin

so heinous, so unforgiving.

The hand of my watch exhausted,

clicks to the hour and the door rattles open.

There stands the face of retribution,

eyes glowing with anger,

teeth bared with disdain.

I stumble,

my heart all but stopped in my chest.

A voice resounds, hard and forceful.

‘Have you something to tell me?’

I nod nervously.

She growls.

‘I forgot your birthday again, didn’t I?’ I say, cringing.

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Comments 2 comments

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Tony DeLorger 5 years ago from Adelaide, South Australia Author

Thanks Jami, glad you enjoyed. have a great day.

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jami l. pereira 5 years ago

Once again , you have awed me with your words , voted up and awesome , great job!

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