Off With His Head

-Off With His Head-
by
Keaton Foster



The king’s hand
Screams
Off with his head
The executioner
A giant of a fool
His face covered
His demeanor quite cool
He is just doing a job
Killing reduced
To the simplest of form
God above no doubt
Will judge him
But of course
God above
Will judge me first
Downward
The axe creeps
I can hear it
Slicing the air
Getting oh so near
I did a real bad thing
But compared to this
Such a thing
Was child’s play
I spoke out
A said what I felt
And in doing so
It turns out
That I refused the king
No king of mine
But certainly
I am one of the people
And society has its rules
Ridiculous truths
That it turns out
You can be executed for
I never said goodbye
To those in the audience
I never made any kind of peace
There was no last meal
No visit from a priest
I spoke out
I stood upon the pulpit
I screamed from both
The front row and the back
And then just as quick
As soon as my words
Crossed my confident lips
I was dragged up here
And tied to this stump
The king’s hand said
For what you’ve done
The sentence is certainly death
To be carried out immediately
The crowd always needs a show
And I am today’s
Top billed performer
A man turned poet
Made into a criminal
And soon to be a victim
Of the executioners blade
Of course all that is being said
And all that is being read
Is taking place within the time
Of the now falling blade
Damn I wish
That I could come up with
A much better ending
But I cannot!


Off With His Head
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013