In Service of the State

 

In Service of the State

 

Here he was,

Facing the infinite night,

That comes to all,

Announced or not,

But inevitable all the same.

Many triumphs he could count

Serving the state.

Many deeds celebrated,

And more unseen,

And these perhaps,

The more effective.

No records were known of them,

No photographs,

But those seared in memory.

Here at the end,

They flicked by in stop-motion,

Glaringly clear,

With pleading faces in some,

Or eyes hateful,

The betrayals known in them.

Black exploits and wrongful acts,

The unseen crusade pursued.

All to oblige an ideal long twisted,

Misshapen policy,

Perverted and distorted,

Only to resolve in the same results,

Had the ventures never been enacted.

Now his sins haunt him,

Recalling a life wasted in servitude,

An existence bearing no fruit,

Save the horrid rescreening

He now endures.

Outside this loathing he hears them:

 

“Coma like this can last years.”

 

It is then that he remembers

Just how large his bank account is…

He sinks back into the abomination he constructed,

Knowing how well he deserves this…

Yes.

He deserves this…

 

Cliff Lake 6/28/2024

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

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