Unlisted (Poetry)

We’re waiting for the axe to fall —
the blade is swinging low
we fear more heads will surely roll
each day the numbers grow

No door can keep the killer out
there is no guarantee
the executioner won’t come
for either you or me

He chooses victims randomly —
our names might yet be called
there’s no safe place in the whole world
however thickly-walled

We’re keeping calm — we carry on
with all those normal things
that give small comfort — tell ourselves
hope’s voice — defiant — sings

Meanwhile the Reaper’s still abroad
and crossing off his list
We hold our breath and pray our home
is one he’s somehow missed