deepundergroundpoetry.com

The executioner

The executioner drags his heavy axe upon the blood soaked stage,
 
waiting for the cheers as he raises up the blade,  
 
silence in that moment  just before he lets it fall,  
 
 he watches as the Fryer begins to pray for them all,  
 
a monster cloaked in black and red from head to toe,  
 
wishing for that moment when the blood begins to flow,  
 
it's not a choice for him you surely must know,  
 
when he was just a boy he saw his fathers body burned,  
 
while children chanted rhymes from the green hills below,  
 
 he knew in his heart that he would never be the same,  
 
since that day he vowed to find the men that callously were to blame,  
 
to be the one this time with law on his side,  
 
to stand over them until he saw everyone of them die,  
 
it took years,but finally he found,
 
the last of those men was before him on his knees and bound,  
 
feeling that his work was close to complete,  
 
he thought of all the lives he took and felt no release,  
 
a lifetime of death, rot and misery, reduced to a man upon his knees,  
 
 the Fryer left the stage, the time to act was now,  
 
 the executioner felt sweat trickle down his brow,  
 
a few steps more to claim his prize, to stare into this evil sinners eyes,  
 
 to make good on his vow of twisted childhood dreams,  
 
to hear no more of his fathers desperate screams,  
 
he brought his axe up over his broad shoulder,  
 
 holding just a moment, the crowd was getting bolder,  
 
 the axe came down a sharp singing through the air,  
 
such a sweet song of victory and justice no one ever knew,  
 
the executioner turned to the crowd as the cheers and laughter grew,  
 
a glorious moment looking into those faces,seeing anger to match his own rage,  
 
 until he saw at the bottom of the stage, a young boy no more than a babe,  
 
he was still as a statue in some garden of old,  
 
on his face a look of agony, his fathers head lay on the stage as the body grew cold,  
 
their eyes met, a look of rage and hate filled the boys innocent eyes,  
 
the crowd still cheering, now all the executioner heard was the boys anguished cries,  
 
too late to take it back now,his actions irreversible,  
 
 the man's soul was on it's way to hell,and the body being carried away to keep them from the smell,  
 
 justice just a word now, the executioner felt no joy,  
 
his lifetime of killing brought to an end by the eyes of a boy.
Written by SRE_crowsclaw
Published | Edited 9th Mar 2019
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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