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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Gothic >> ID #994551 |
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HIS DEADLY PEN The noose sways gently in the breeze, The footpath from the cell is worn, With baying masses to appease, I’ll face their hatred and their scorn. My body numb, my hopes expire, I’m out of luck, and out of time, I’m left with only one desire, That I should know what was my crime. Many men have been before, And many may come after me, My family watch and they abhor, As guards lead me to the hanging tree. All I’ve done I don’t recall, And though my dreams are full of fright, I’m sure I’ve done no sin at all, Yet I shall pay for them tonight. One man alone has cast the blame, He crossed the ‘T’, and checked it twice, One man has signed away my name, Pleas of innocence shan’t suffice. Is he better than you or I? The Lord High Executioner of men, One man to choose whom shall die, One man and his deadly pen.
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