Crossed Fingers

"I'd never lie to you."

That's what you say now.

I'll beat it out of you,

Someday.

Never the needed justice

That still-frame conscience brings.

You're just the innocent

Perpetrator.

Another lie slips through

Your crossed fingers to the pen,

Marring your pure, white

Script.

The fire burns brigthly

As the sun sets on

Your blistering, blackened

Fingertips

And in the deepening indigo twilight,

Their hands pull at your heart,

Passionate eyes boring into your soul.

Can you hear their cries of sorrow and pain?

Or taste the freedom on their lips?

The cold blanket of night

Falls over your face.

Their eyes light the

Atmosphere.

There's no hesitation,

You've gone down

With a terrified shout of

Silence.

Freedom fills their hearts.

Their hope is in our hands

As they keep their fingers

Crossed.