Life/death
men with swords aside our Lord
above one stands ready at the guard
a few alongside in prayer
while a three headed woman
captive in the stocks
stays at his feet
eyes cast low to not shed her evil
on the master
who do I pray to now?
---------------------------------------
wet bricks told of the night rains
walls up high dried by the sun
only fifteen feet away, I hope I don't slip
only fifteen feet to what?
walls to high to scale
a bench by the passageway
even the guards need rest
no one in sight,
perhaps they lay in wait
in the recessed shadows
just ten more feet
perhaps I'll make it this time
perhaps not
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