You

Breeze at night,

gentle takes and moves strands of your hair.

They sway around your defiant face,

an indolent and uncontrolled swing,

you can't tame; not even touch or graze.

Head raised, pursed lips, open eyes on fire.

Knees on the ground, trembling thighs apart.

Hands at your back, tied wrists, clenched fists.

Flames prevail over darkness,

battle noise over vigil,

pride and rage over death's

childish fear.

Short is the moment you still have,

little air your chest will contain.

Fiercely, you wish a final flare,

one friend's features, light from the moon,

shadows of the palms on the ground.

Your heart flutters, it beats you;

The cold blade tears your neck's flesh,

Fire and stars spin fast around.

The head falls on the sand.

The end has arrived.