Aug. 9, 2019

That Sound!

by Douglas Blaine Matthews (author's profile)


That Sound!

I stand here, staring through these bars that have become
The definition of my life.
Gazing through the window at the stars, which I'll never see
Again, their brilliant bright light.
And I notice, once again, the hollowness inside me, cold as
Ice and dull as a stone.
That echo in the hole that's been dug by those I thought loved
Me, but have left me here alone.
I grip these bars, 'cause I can hear coming, as the steel
Bites into my hands.
That sound, that god awful sound, the chorus and feet of
Satan's marching bands.
Just like every day, I close my eyes and take my breaths,
One... two... three...
But my teeth become barred and my lungs begin to
Seethe, and the pain mounts inside of me.
Splinters in my eyes, the fire in my chest and the
Cold hands that tear at my soul.
Then the reckless train rips out of my chest and
Rage screams out of control.
And then I get weak and fall to the floor,
Bitten... by its cold.
Shaking... Confused...
Lying there like a child or fetus curled.
Wanting to feel warmth.
Begging God for an end... to this wicked, lonely
And so I pray...
Lord, I ask of you, before I wake,
This frost bitten life, please do take.
If I shall die, for I pray so,
Damn my body and please extinguish my soul.
For my spirit can bear no more pain
And never can forget "that sound" of hell's train!

10:56 PM
Death Row - FSP

When I wrote this, I was of the mind that it'd be my last. But I guess you could say it was the beginning of me learning how to transfer my emotions, the painful ones, to paper.

Until next time!

Yours truly,


Replies Replies feed

We will print and mail your reply by . Guidelines

Other posts by this author


Get notifications when new letters or replies are posted!

Posts by Douglas Blaine Matthews: RSS email me
Comments on “That Sound!”: RSS email me
Featured posts: RSS email me
All Between the Bars posts: RSS