Captive

In the silence of the night

I heard the stomp of their horses

Peeking through the makeshift window to see their torches

They found him.

His face was excessively battered

A rope fastened around his neck with his arms bound behind his back

Shoved along by his captures as they straddled along

And as they pushed him to the ground they began beating him

Beating him before our eyes

Punching him and kicking him

Some even rode their horses over him

Mothers muffled the cries of their children

Covered their eyes and forced them to turn away

This was not a sight to be seen

This was not a memory to remember

The latch securing the door flew past my face as it was kicked open

A few made their way to our shed

They questioned us, questioned me

“Who else ran?”

Asked me repeatedly as I stood there

Shaking from the treble in their voice

“No one. I swear”

My mother responded humbly

With their question answered they stormed out

They took him.

Dragged him through the mud and muck

As he fought to be free

Tugging and gripping at the binds around his neck

His bloodshot eyes were filled with fear and tears

Screaming from the top of his lungs

Then coughing from choking on his own spit

They rode long and hard

Hauled for the entire journey at the back of their horses

To the middle of the field

Where the lonely oak tree stood tall

Tonight you have company

They chanted foul names at him

Riveted from the toll of his injuries

And as he laid there we watched

We watched though we knew what was coming

We watched while his bounds were tied to a branch

We watched as he pleaded for forgiveness

We watched as they repeatedly struck him

We watched until they finally set his tattered body a fire

The scent of his burning flesh consumed our small community

An as he hung there as an example to all who may be tempted to follow

I thought to myself this man was a slave, just like me

Killed for his only crime “The Desire To Be Free”.