10/10/2011

The Mercy of Chase

The dire response of the rabid dog
The tired retreat of the school girl.

Matted fur chasing bobbing hair,
pounding iron tendons race to ensnare,
small rubber soles can carry one but not fast enough,
before teeth a life to snuff.

Cold blood rushing through veins
Dress now covered in mud stains
A cold sweat laces each lung
At the sound of its lapping tongue

O greyhound major, the neighbourhood terror,
wherefore lay your master's hand?
What punishment should you withstand,
for causing the innocent to tremor?

Your teeth clasp at His forearm
Like a tongue grasps a barb
In His eyes he sees no cause for alarm
Retreat, savage beast
For your teeth are brittle
So they will never whittle
away
His judgement.

Fall back and fall away
Into darkness and dismay
Be cast into fire
Be lost into flame
Drown in the deepest mire
Until your demeanor is tame.

What of the girl?
And her turbulent hear.
It can rejoice again
in the arms of her father
Now, and then.

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