deepundergroundpoetry.com

the executioner

the executioner is getting old.  
with every axe swung his joints weaken  
with every noose tied he hangs himself.  

he looks at the sunrise and thinks: yes, i can see beauty.  
he looks at his hands and he says: yes, these hands are righteous.  
he looks in the mirror and he knows: yes, this man is good  
 
this man is good.
Written by anna_grin (ANNAN)
Published
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