Death of a spy
Tightly, tangling, tourniquetssqueeze fears anticipation.
Twisted tongues, so tortured tell,
of hells emancipation.
Espionage, assassin at large,
Ingest deaths desecration.
Shambolic friend to luncheon with,
fed fish and radiation.
Falling folicals,failing heart,
free from interrogation.
Freedom of speech, and Russia's
never been a combination.
The words here of a dying man,
are scorn, not admiration.
I wonder why, about the spy,
and his last contemplation?
Poetry by stevelee
Read 648 times
Written on 2006-11-25 at 19:57
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