I was both powerless and weak,
The trembling damaged my physique,
The inner bleeding made me sick
And left me in a haze.
As in a film I’d seen before,
A head appeared at the door
And pierced me at my very core
With its unfriendly gaze.

The domineering hand went up:
"Now face the wall!" it pled.
And then my sides were pushed and rubbed
Against the sticky bed.

The most important of these guys
Observed me with true hatred.
Then, staring straight into my eyes,
He opened my case record.

Next in his fingers, hard as steel,
My larynx twitched against my will;
My guts and groin were squeezed with skill,
As was my sorry liver.
My core was aching from his grip
As he pressed hard below my rib,
And blood was flowing from the nib
On paper like a river.

Still half awake, as if jet-lagged,
I was stripped naked on a spot.
And in the corner, the old hag,
Was ready with a shot.

From head to toe the shivers creeped,
The horror made me feeble.
What if they put me down to sleep
To crack me with a needle?

He shoved my belly with his hand,
My skull was squeezed on his demand,
He bound my forearms with a band
And stopped the flow of blood.
I shrieked, but kept my mouth shut;
Lips pulled together in disgust,
And he would wriggle, sweat and grunt,
His writings were a flood.

He was already in the zone,
But I then yelled at him:
"What are you writing there alone?
Reveal your secret theme!"

His sidekick, quite a psycho gent,
Secured my wrists together.
A row of torture instruments
Was set on shiny leather.

I know the ropes, I’ve seen it all,
I can break loose, I can stand tall,
But here I’m humbled and made small,
I’m feeling down, I’m nodding.
As I lie naked on my cot,
The one in charge still writes a lot,
He fills his protocol with notes,
Although I’m not responding.

No, I must save some strength and will,
For I feel weak again.
Since they will torture, burn my heels
To make me laugh from pain.

I’ve got my nerve, I’m still on guard,
It feels like a disaster.
The brought a hose and pushed it hard
Right down my throat, these bastards!

Contained in pincers, in a vise,
I’m being pinched, I’m being sized;
I’m scrutinized, I’m analyzed,
They’re palpating and probing.
And in a span that is but brief,
They’ll fill my soul with dirt and grief,
They’ll leave it trembling like a leaf,
Deformed, destroyed, and groaning.

"Inhale, inhale, just breath in deep!
Breathe out, you’re insane!"
"If I exhale, you will not give
A chance to breathe again!"

My mouth is dry, but I would sneer:
"To hell with all your studies!
I do not think this works for me,
My psychopathic buddies!"

The lights went out, they gave me gas,
A panel lit up, and at once,
My swollen eyelids spurted pus,
And then, my windpipe gurgled.
But he went wild; he loved his role.
His sidekicks brought a metal bowl.
I think they have achieved their goal:
I’m properly encircled.

He skulks around behind my back
And gives another shot.
"Go hit my veins, you stupid quack,
But show me what you’ve wrote!"

I had to get down on my knees.
My body felt depleted.
I made demands, and I made threats,
I groveled, begged and pleaded.

The tourniquet is tightened well,
A spirit lamp emits its smell,
They all await, as I can tell,
The redhead with her lash.
They’ll score big time with this abuse,
But I’m, old jester, still confused:
When will the glowing rod be used?
I’ll pass out in a flash.

The witches’ sabbath went its way,
Sweat poured, profuse and hot.
A raven flew in to survey
And occupied his spot.

The raven cried out: "Nevermore!"
He’s nimble one and greedy -
Reminding me: into the morgue
The torture chamber’s leading.

I weakly elevate my tail,
Although for them I’m dumb and frail:
"For biased justice that you hail,
You will be tried in court!
Hey you, I can’t recall you names,
You have returned to former days!
But there is still a law that says
To give me a report!"

I’m peering over someone’s backs
To see the words they scrawl.
"I will not sign your stupid acts
Until I’ve read them all!"

A yellow shoulder blocked my view
And listlessly concluded:
"We don’t need signatures from you.
The picture is quite lucid."

"My little sister, don’t you bawl,
I won’t stay silent, I’ll tell all,
And I will waive this protocol
When I can see my lawyer!
I told them nothing one-on-one,
I didn’t point at anyone,
Tell everybody that I’m done,
But I was always loyal!"

He looked at me and drew a line:
"Do read, but curb your passion!"
I grabbed the page I had to sign,
But it was all in Latin...

My eyes were spinning, I felt drowned.
I panicked, God’s my witness!
For they did nothing but write down
My history of illness!