The Execution of Nguyen Tuong Van

Death came on a quiet Friday,before sunrise,
Slow as the final footsteps to the prison yard
Abrupt as a broken neck.

So you've crossed, Nguyen, into the clear light,
A place without need for answers

While we who sleep in darkness
Grope and wrestle with our questions,
Stumble through our savage dreams.




From Gilbert Koh’s http://readerseye.blogspot.com/