Captive

A. W. Nutter

The earth, hard and cold

Barefoot and bleeding

 Lamb escaping the fold

Tired of all the beatings

Seeking warmth and shelter

Before my body succumbs

To the harshness of winter

 Father death will soon come

Lungs begging for rest

As I cross an icy stream

Heart racing in my chest

Swallowing my screams

Pale light in the distance

Salvation, moments away

Standing at the entrance

Hoping they’ll let me stay

Door opens, I see my molester

Warming himself by their fire

Playing the role of the jester

Eyes betray his sadistic desire

Darkness consumes reality

As into her depths I descend

A child loosing his sanity

Freedom finding a bitter end