The Hostage

Sitting in fear, all alone,
The end creeps near, no point to cry no point to moan.
I did not expect to be the one,
Who was grabbed and made to stare at the gun.
They put me in harms way, so they were free,
What can I say? Why was it me?
Eyes heavy, darkness draws in.
Am I being punished? Am I guilty of sin?
Captive, like a bird in a cage,
I have no way to vent my rage.
My eyes are closing what a pest.
Body heavy, I need to rest.
Is sleep a mistake?
I beg I wake!
From this sleep will I rise?
Or will I be the boy who die’s?
Police are promising money and merchandise,
For my life, is that the price?
Doors are slammed, gunshots fire.
I feel calmed, the silence raises my spirits higher.
I am dragged by a modern knight,
Not in armour, in uniform, a glorious sight.
As I leave, I look around.
I see dead bodies on the ground.
I’ll never forget the look on their face,
For it was a cold expression you never erase.
In the end I’m still in fear, all alone,
But the end is not here, no need to cry no need to moan.

By Craig Stanger.