Sweet Terror, Play Me Well

reactions when faced with certain undesirable fate

Distant church bells
chiming
bring no comfort,
fading as horrific promises
resound,
echoing
in my ears and soul.

Visions of evil
pace in and out
of eyes unblinking,
too scared to watch,
too haunted to deny
power
to my deranged captor.

Aroma of fear
overwhelming
stench of rotting flesh;
scent of my weakness
devours
all resolve
of random rescue.

Ropes cut into
unyielding wrists;
power
taken with immobility. 
Breath of the devil
tickling
my skin.

Salt
from sweat and tears
dance
upon my tongue,
quenching hope,
tasting despair,
awaiting my destiny.

Senses awakened
as death looms near,
dulling my heart,
heightening
awareness of time. 
Sweet terror,
you play me well.