Firing Squad

I tried something different today
And pitted ten human bodies against my finger:
I, alone, against their blindfolded breathing—
How long do you think I let them linger?

Though conscious that I had outmanned myself,
I knew that I could not be daunted;
Awake so early, with all my comrades still asleep—
What do you think I wanted?

When the god of Love bends his golden bow
With arrows made of smiles and lies
And sees his captives fall like twitching doves
Do you think he shivers with surprise?

I know the sound the human mind makes
When it shatters at a finger twitch,
Those brains that burst against the wall,
Are they as wise as I am rich?

They will wonder at what I have done
But few will mourn my captive ten,
But tonight when I, in darkness, lie,
Will my Love-killed heart, with horror, beat again?


2 responses to Firing Squad

  1. T. G. Rivard says:

    An unusual and unsettling combination – an executioner who suffers from a broken heart. But it works. There is something quiet about how the narrator describes Cupid’s arrows and blowing brains out. I felt this quietness blended the two disparate element very well. And in the end, I found myself feeling sorry for the narrator despite his job.

    Short, but very densely packed. Nicely done!

    Liked by 1 person

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