Charles J. Ingerson



Torture was frequent
no rules to enforce
methods though quaint
were a common course.

But then something new
involving choices hard
given to a special few
all humanity to discard.)

Death of Life

Bringing forth the senior
possibly one who knows
where secrets are shared
and this awful smell blows.

Burning skin of the fire
lashings without respite
men hanging in danger
wishing a way to fight.

But this not the time
all was without reason
would they die or live
if one commit treason.

Choices of death and life
talk or they’ll die for sure
neither strength nor love
only talking is their cure.

Choices within morality
given in greed and lust
war a game to savor
not one another to trust.


Hanging from wrists above
much like meat to a butcher
being lashed with the cat
whose nine tails torture.

Like razors the skin cuts
repeatedly over and over
laconically the method known
soon none will ever recover.

Blood dripping as the rain
anguished looks fading away
clothes shredded and soaked
continuing day after long day.

Choices of whether to die
but not oneself as the stake
others expendable in war
ever humanities mistake.


But unfinished aloud said
for will a sureness known
all of them soon will be dead
in this moment truth shown.

Whether to talk or not speak
these men are to surely die
just a flam the enemy seek
knowing we’ll never ask why.

Then heard the smashing
first the feet and then knees
spirits found unwilling crashing
as all sanity forever flees.

‘I’ll…’ words never aloud said
surely these men are to die
in war choices found dead
where no one again can cry.

Damn You!

Curses worse and profound
epithets uttered in anger
when is heard no sound
even knowing such danger.

Finding victory in silence
sneering in the enemy’s face
these soldiers finding reliance
in shared looks each to trace.

Frustration vents deaths fury
first what was slow now quick
and again the enemy we bury
our victory in being so slick.

Unbending in the torture given
treasuring a passing of time
until such anger is driven
to cross sanity’s short line.


Not even opening the door
viewings not for all to see
this interpretation so poor
as the visions are not free.

Screaming horrors of anger
death expounded internally
every moment one of danger
where some will be eternally.

Friends found tortured blind
coherence of words thought
escape within not too kind
as forever embraced caught.

There is no way to explain
the horrors seen ever real
better in a Hell to be lain
at least there one can heal.

Choices are not to be given;
no excuses will ever define
where some have been driven
in winds and rains so divine.)