The Hanging
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The jury was unanimous
Twelve cried out justice
Guilty
It was just before the changing hour
The hanging planned for quarter past midnight or so
The moon was full, the shining light exposing deaths dance
The grim reaper was ready, one more for his collection
I was ready for this moment
Ready to face my freedom and my death
Long ago, a mirror shattered into twelve pieces
Twelve faces who said I have to go
Twelve past the midnight hour
Sacred ghosts haunting twilight hours
Whiskey filling the soul soon to be departed
The hangman at the ready with a somber face
For his duties he did not so much embrace
This evening he knew the hanging would take all effort
Of spirit and determination
To send this one of to his eternal damnation
He was shivering and I sensed in fear
As I stared at him solemnly in the mirror
We both eye to eye knew this day would come
The hangman and me, conscious of the sum
So the note was neatly written
The whiskey bottle all alone, empty on the floor
I stood bravely or maybe cowardly
Upon the wooden chair
The rope I wrapped around I my neck
As the hangman in the mirror was in despair
I patted him on the back and said no worries my friend
This, you see is the end of it all
All that we ever both wished or dreamed
A week or two later
They found the hangman
A rope around his neck
Staring blanking in the mirror
A note on the bedside table
Told this story as you hear
A man with a broken heart
Hanged because of his own mutilated reflection
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2016
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