The Guard

by Lucian C. Ban

I’m in my post for near' an hour,
Sweat pours like rain beneath my armour,
This freaking planet’s so damn hot,
I feel like I was sent here only to rot.

The dusk sets in, shadows are growing,
I cannot fu..ing see where am I going...
And tho’ the air is silent and so still,
The shades look like they’re moving for a kill.

Ah, well – I’ll just stay closer to the light,
No point to wander in the night.
I feel a sharp burn: „What the fu..!?!”
Out of impulse I start to duck.

My weapon drops heavy to the ground,
As pain spreads quickly trough my arm.
The time slows to a deadly stop,
As I foresee the horrid trap.

The world now darkens all around,
I cannot hear even a sound...
All I can see is but a milky glow,
It seems so funny... looks like snow.

The comprehension settles in,
This is a game I cannot win.
„This cannot happen now to me!”
I want to live, PLEASE let me be!”

But my thoughts cannot become words,
As I have lost my vocal cords,
The cry for mercy and for help,
All now transforms into a yelp.

The demon left me, but comprehension grows:
I cannot breathe; fear grabs me in its claws!
All I can think of, all I cry:
Is but a thought: „I DON’T WANNA DIE!”

June 26, 2009