The Guillotine

Does it not shimmer to the shine, the steel blade Of dead reckonings ultimate design, cold is Its fine edged point, a slicing masterpiece, Of revolutionary engineering, behold deaths Chopping silver anvil, the guillotine! Polished by rags dipped crimson blood, Washed by virgin waters of the fallen innocent, From the martyr to the beggar thief, It mattered not, to this abomination of Humanities creation. It wished nothing more except to be fed, The head stones of the living, reveling in their Screams of pain, and savoring the victims liquid River of bodily fluids of terrors anguish. A flashing chopping block, held and fastened, By two wooden beams, apparatuses executioner, Welding a suspended sword of destiny, at a Ropes pivot center of weights mass, Of crime or injustice! The hooded condemned kneel underneath this, Metal toothed demonic demon, praying Their deaths to be swift, begging God For salvation's intervention, but the beast Awaits hungrily, demanding his tributes prize, A bloody sacrifice of flesh and bone! It almost seems to be a living entity, Waiting, anticipating the carnage that is To come, as the celebrating crowds gather. Death’s grim reaper, kicks over the bags Of weighted sand, just then the biting Giant hammer clamps down, the final cut is done, And the head basket of doom, is full at last! The kindred brethren of the now deceased, Yell hurray at this gruesome grandiose display, Of carnages dismemberment and bloody Theatrics, applauding for more! Does it not shimmer to the shine, the steel blade Of dead reckonings ultimate design, cold is Its fine edged point, a slicing masterpiece, Of revolutionary engineering, behold deaths Chopping silver anvil, the guillotine! BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN