In the ways of war ,
I have been vested.
For my country I have been tested.

Blindfolded, for my attire
Blue pajammas.

Thrown to the cell,
and the cell is locked.
Cold cell.

4 x4 Conrete meets a cold steel door.
Single sliver of light,
Beneath the door.

Positioned just so,
I prepare to go.

So soon I do enjoy;
Swooshing and sloshing
Approaching stepping.

As a hundred arabic curses
are hurtled my way in praise!