information – Jovis on a Journey…

Torture wreaked havoc with his mind’s sanity
The anguish just chilled me to the core
As the beatings continue to reduce him
He is scared he’ll not take too much more.

Again the water washed over and woke him
The bucket clanging as they threw it back down
Once again he was taken to the table
‘Waterboarding‘ I thought with a frown.

He was laid on his back and then tied down
They put towels over his mouth and his nose
They poured and they poured water on him
Once again in his chest panic rose.

A reporter who’d been caught in the crossfire
There was no information he could tell
No amount of hard beatings and torture
Could make him give secrets he’d not held.

Beaten and bloodied he is taken
Back as before to his cell
He’s told them all that he ever could tell them
But he still can’t escape from this hell.

He languishes in his cell I am certain
He cries out for mercy from each pore
I know that they still give him more beatings
I see him as he hobbles past my cell door.

©Joe Wilson – Caught in the Crossfire 2014

I don’t really know how I got here
My mind is completely blank
I’m cold and I’m wet and I’m filthy
And my hair is all long and lank.

I appear to be locked in a cellar
Not quite dark, there’s a little poor light
I’m awake, or at least I assume so
Was I drugged when I passed out last night?

No noise can be heard from the outside
No sound can be heard from within
Till a huge man leans in at the doorway
And I sense all the trouble I’m in.

He doesn’t ask, so much as point towards me
I get up and he shoves me through the door
It comes back to me all of a sudden
When I see the dead man on the floor.

Information that must never be surrendered
Is why the dead man lies there in the room
He was brave as they made me watch his death
And I fear that I may follow soon.

I’ve seen things here that I must not ever talk of
Things so terrible and on such a large-scale
Telling people, even those on my own side
Would cause panic and killing without fail.

But I signed up to do this kind of duty
Someone has to report what goes on
And as they hold my head under for just a moment too long
I know with my very last breath that I’ve won.