The Warder of Cruel Delight

He’d spent his life as a Turnkey

At His Majesty’s Prison, Whailes,

The Warder, Walter McMurtrey

Of the grim and unwholesome tales,

His brow was grim and forbidding

And his fist was broken and scarred,

He took delight in the whipping

Of the prisoners, out in the yard.

 

But Gordon Pole was a special case

For the Warder’s cruel delight,

He’d take him out of his cell in chains

And scourge him, every night,

‘You think you’re going to get out of here,

Get back to your former life,

I think you’re spending your life in here,

While I go sleep with your wife!’

 

But Gordon bit on his tongue, until

His mouth was filled with blood,

He wouldn’t answer him back, he’d rather

Take it, while he stood,

His wife had lied in an open court

The law just took its course,

He asked her why she had lied, she said:

‘It’s like a quick divorce!’

 

His thoughts were black as he brooded

Made a note of every stroke,

The time would come, he concluded

That he’d walk, with other folk,

But deep within him a beast had stirred

That never would be allayed,

Would fill his mouth and his eyes and ears

‘Til the debt in full was paid.

 

It raved in the darkness round his cell

Kept him awake for hours,

Would haunt his sleep and exhaust him ‘til

He went to the morning showers,

The scars were livid across his back,

And prisoners shrank in fear:

‘Just why is McMurtrey after you?’

They’d call, so he could hear.

 

His wife called once with the mortgage deed,

‘You’re going to have to sign!

Walter says that you’ll be in here

Until the end of time.

We’re getting married, I thought you knew,

He’s more than good to me!’

‘You could have had him and let me go,’

Said Gordon, ‘Let me be!’

 

The beast arose in the midnight cell

And wriggled out through the bars,

While Gordon lay in a trance-like state,

Dreaming about the stars,

It made its way to the woman’s home

And it slid right under the door,

Rose up the stairs to the bedroom where

It gave out a mighty roar!

 

The neighbours said there were screams that night

Enough to curdle your blood,

The sounds of thrashing and weeping rent

Their way through the neighbourhood,

McMurtrey died from a thousand cuts,

His flesh was torn from the bone,

His head perched up on a lampshade, with

One hand still gripping the phone.

 

And high from the bedroom ceiling where

The beam ran over the bed,

A figure that had been screaming, was

Not screaming now, but dead!

While on the pillow the Holy Book

Was open, and left no doubt,

For she was hung from a butcher’s hook

Wedged deep in her perjured mouth.

 

The police came down and they searched his cell,

They checked the lock on the door,

They said they didn’t know how it was

Despite the blood on his floor,

The beast hid up in the ceiling space

Was blown away by the fan,

And Gordon smiled in his sleep that night,

The sleep of an innocent man.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[David Scott]

I think many will like this one. To have justice served and to sleep well knowing you had nothing to do with it... or did you? I think Gordon will never be innocent. sometimes life deals the cards and steal even our character for a while. It can be reclaimed, but it is noever the pure white snow it was before.
A strong write and a story that was told with ease in this poem. I do love you style of justice though.

[Veronica Chandler]

This write really struck me in the face; I am sure there is an imprint on my spirit. Your words reached deep into the the core of my spirit. Wow, David, just wow.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Did he or didn't he, a question that begs to be answered.

[Adam Lebzo -RonninWarri..]

Deep and amazing story as usual!!

[Lena M. P.]

The take on this should be that divorces shouldn't take so bloody long to get! Maybe then more spouses wouldn't contrive to get rid of their significant others through dastardly deeds. Ha, she got her comeuppance! Mwah haha!

[ThinkingOfAnAlias]

Wow Great story. I reread it twice. Very sad theme. I was wondering if some people could review my writing. I need some feedback. :(

[Tate Morgan]

Well guilt is always such a subjective thing. Justice is something we all want at times. Nothing like a little revenge to top off a life lol

[Valentine]

A surprise tale from you..a bit morbid..but he got his justice in the end..No more beatings and his tormentor is gone to be with his dead wife forever,,Morbid..I guess but coming from your pen..you know I will like it..Kathie

[keyvan]

nice poem

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Sounded to me as is if revenge is sweet. Good story.