In the stillness of life, a soul drowns in strife
Stop that hammering outside I implore!
But as night becomes day, a ringing echoes my way
So I move toward the jail-house door.
Is that singing I hear, so angelic, so clear?
I lean a bit closer to make sure.
But a clack of the lock, reveals a priest in frock
My last meal is then set on the floor.
"Preacher!" said I. "Tell the truth, do not lie
On this day will your god be appeased?"
With a shake of his head, these somber words he said
"I am sorry, he will be quite displeased."
And with time growing short, I take one last snort
From the bottle between my knees.
There are no regrets as I take those thirteen steps
To the top of the scaffold with ease.
My eyes are now cast on the people who've amassed
Many had made the long haul.
With the trapdoor set, a rope around my neck
I await the hangman's call.
Weighted sacks at my feet and a singing so sweet
I stand on the scaffold tall.
Once an outlaw at large, I now make one last charge
With the snap of my neck, I fall!
"Yes we shall gather at the river
the beautiful, the beautiful river.
Gather with your neighbors at the river
as I make my way unto God..."
YOU ARE READING
Dark Poetry
PoetryThis is a colection of thoughts or nightmares in form of poetry, some of them written by myself, some only gathered by me. The darkness is in all of us just waiting to get out, but not in the light. No, darkness reaches out for darkness, so you thin...
