When Hate Came Hunting, by Ann WJ White

Do you feel the night?
Dark and spare, leaking
Cries of hurt and pain,
On the perimeter?
Exploding sharply with striking
Sadism, extended into
Emotional, manic, physical
Intoxication by the perpetrators?
The Dominatrix
Of authorized power,
The predator seeking his repose
On the neck of a brother.

Breathing gone in:
One minute.
The gasps of Mama,
Mother, please…
Terror releasing the soul
To the madness of
Self-aggrandized brutality.

Do you hear their struggles
As reality becomes sodden with tears?
Bodies lifted to be dashed on rocks
Below on the riverbank,
Witnesses seized, gassed,

Their breath stolen, inhaled,
As the perpetrators dance
With murder’s primal lust.
While We in the shadows
Weep and record.
Do you hear them as
They whisper goodbye?
Do you remember their names?

2 thoughts on “When Hate Came Hunting, by Ann WJ White

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