Execution
He laid his neck upon the block,
The axe man standing to his side;
The crowd began to jeer and mock.
Although he’d always had such pride,
He wished he could run and hide,
But trembling, tried to mask it.
A blinding light as he died -
Then his head stared from the basket.
Jack Horne for Nette’s Hutain This One.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.