The Hanging Tree

Dead men tell no tails, or so the winds of Destiny’s say. On judgment hill from on high, Voices do echo downwards, as the Noose does sway, back and forth, on the Hangman's tree. These gallows, of oaken branches, act as tethers, Shackles, holding the forsaken, souls prisoner. Ghost phantoms cling, to it's rotten limbs, That break beneath times endless rampage. Regrets fallen horsemen, of the old west, Stand guard, sentinels on horse back, Wearing a tarnished tin star. God's law keepers, are branded, sworn, By their honor, to protect even after death, The gates of heaven, from this spawn of hell. Beware evil desperadoes, no mercy will This the lord's posses show unto you, For these riders bare a different mark. A silver cross of justice, given by The Almighty’s hand himself. Say thy prayers, all lawless men, For on this day, does the rope tighten, Around your neck, there is no reprieve, No salvation for evils deceit. Hell bound are thou, the devils breed. But beware, there is no escape, From this grave site. At dawns first light, as it spreads Across the western horizon. Know that yee, are one of many spirits Doomed, to be weaved within the Tangled limbs, called the hang Mans tree. BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN