war_poetry | C.J. Christiansen, '1984: What Really Happened'

1984: What Really Happened

One jewel they had: a world of silken glass
In which their lives were fixed in timeless light.
One hope they had: that somehow they might pass
Their spark of truth along in the great night.
They were alive. They were the dead.
Standing together by the bed
They heard the iron voice bespeak their doom
And horror froze them, took away their breath:
The evil Eye was with them in the room.
The fate awaiting them was worse than death.
They were alive. They were the dead.
"Stay where you are", the cold voice said.

Then Winston Smith could bear no more to know love's peace profaned
By spying eyes that all his life had kept his spirit chained.
The world of glass, the timeless light, gleamed heavy in his hand -
It splintered through the telescreen, which died in mid-command.

The iron boots were ringing on the stair,
A ladder burst the window-frame right out,
As Julia caught up an antique chair
And swung at the first trooper with a shout.
They were alive. They were the dead.
It took him squarely in the head.
Winston grabbed for the old-fashioned clock
And struck the trooper at the window-ledge
Across the fingers with a smashing shock,
Then pushed the ladder backwards off the edge.
They were alive. They were the dead.
At once the air was full of lead.

As Winston Smith fell groaning, with his chest blown nigh in half,
He saw her fall beside him; through the pain he heard her laugh.
He could not turn, but stretched his hand to touch her one last time
As they died there, unrepentant, and unpunished for their crime.

by C.J. Christiansen