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black skin glistening like a black pearl
eyes milky white, staring(at him) in anticipation
lips slightly parted as if in mid- moan
pulse thundering in his slender throat like a trapped bird
Adams apple bobs up and down, up and down..
swallowing the fast accumulating spit of anticipation..
his fingertips trace the the soft grooves on the rock.
each edge razor like in definition, sharp against his skin;
its weight like the lead of death inside his heart..
eyes wide open, rolling like a cage trapped animal,
he lifts his hand, taking aim; biceps flexing, triceps relaxing..
fuelled by anger frustration despair
desperation; they coalesce like a dense fog; the hate solidifies; in his mind’s eye
he focuses on the faraway helmet….
borrowed from www.stratfor.com
He lets go,
the rock-missile cuts through air thick with tear-gas fog, dense with siren wails
as if directed by the hands of fate..
right through the gap in the riot policeman’s visor…
distantly, they shout, the sirens blare,a gunshot rings out.
Anger thus vented. An eye for an eye.
we stare at their brokenness.
They are dead.
Time flows by and does not touch us…
Gotta say this is a great one, good one, love it
Aye! Profound!