Main      Site Guide    

Poetry Pool

Upon the Death of a Prisoner

"Morituri te salutant!"
The phrase echoes in
Her head once again,
A bitter tear slides down.
Here stands a boy...
To be torn apart by lions.
He walks past her,
Doesn't even see her.
The boy is gone
Into his world of
Pain and destruction,
Into the jaws of
Hideous beasts.
The girl brushes away
That single tear and
She keeps walking.
He is gone forever.

Alissa Wiens


Back to the Poetry Pool.