Executioner of Tudor Era

You are the most infamous executioner of the Tudor era
Beheading at the command of King
It was time for a career change
Decades of working with dead animals
Disgusted at what your ancestors did
You had no choice but to embrace it
Your survival depended on it
Your trade from birth made you hated
Poorest of the poor and lowest of the low
Blood stained your clothes, rotting carcasses filled your home
 Living alone among a mountain of bones
You were perfect for the new role
Handpicked for the position when they were  looking for a man with a strong stomach unafraid of killing
You already made a living from death
Simply swap fur for human flesh
Replace a cow or horse with a human corpse
From "Mr disgusting" skinning dead vermin
To working with the King's blessing
After your life of poverty
No one could have imagined you could work for royalty
A job is a job
Executing those with noble blood who in normal life you couldn't speak to let alone touch
Now no different to a squirrel  - like skinning squirrels you lost count of the people you have killed
No longer as Proud as a Peacock in their final moments they kneel before you
The blade is sharpened and ready to use
Held by you the man who worked in all weathers, went without food
Marching through mud and excrement barefoot praying for shoes
Preparing to extinguish the existence of a man of noble birth
Privileged from conception, born into wealth and luxury
Servants, balls and manor house with grounds
Innocent or guilty it matters not
On a stage, in control and wearing a hood
The sun is shining, you feel a soft breeze and the birds are singing sweetly
It is a beautiful day in England
People condemn you for greed and for profiting from the murder of your fellow man
The things working men will do for gold
The Baron or Lord something from somewhere is led to the scaffold
The convict cannot escape the guards tight hold
When he is dead you can keep his fancy clothes
Another source of revenue as they will be sold
Crowds of people anticipate the show
The audience lifts your spirit as you prepare to release a soul
Crying, begging for mercy - you offer nothing but a swift death
Axe above your head making the crowd hold their breath
Do it well and they will cheer you
Do it poorly and they will jeer you
Regardless of the quality of the kill they will fear you
You lower the blade with the expert precision
A display of skill more than strength
Blood sprays as the man  loses his head
The crowd is ecstatic at the sight of him beheaded
You feel nothing just plan to collect payment
Then visit the local tavern for a beverage