Poem: "Slow Burn"

"Slow Burn"

The night is a slave
smell of pine
bloody splotches on the linoleum floor
in the not so distant spaces
of a desperate, violent mind

The cold feel of his sinewy hands
the scowl of a coal black stare
the easy anticipation of impending fate

The seething snake still calls out
in the silence that precedes daybreak
as a candle flickers

An unspoken witness
as the convicted lights another cigarette
and as he exhales, the demons subside

Smoke lingers in the air
like a final prayer until he succumbs
to the slow burn.

Copyright: 2007, by Raymund Delizo.

Note: This poem was written December 22, 2007.