On The Beheading Of Eugene Olin Armstrong

His was not only one more tale of death read and forgotten by the end of day. This time I clicked the link, and short of breath, watched a trembling man begin to pray as five armed militants with hooded faces announced the sentence that would end his life, (a life spent building homes in far off places) . But God forgive if I recall the knife cutting through his larynx, neck and spine, the awful hollow noises of his lungs, the ghostless whimper of his final whine, though to the left of him the morning sun rushed through the curtain from the window-pane, and angels pleaded with the wind in vain.