The Executioner
-Walter Rossman
Wield I do, this executioner's blade
one could even hear the faint stirs of a violin played
with sadistic elan, and sense fear on this man's face, concealed,
this executioner's blade, I do wield.
When I bring it down, many a head fall
yet today, I'm frightened, unlike protocol,
through the veil,in his eyes I see a plea for mercy, i feel my conscience frown
many a head fall when I bring it down.
And I am sweating, this man's eyes tear me apart,
almost asking, "For the innocent man I am, have you no heart?",
it continues, "for these people, weakly cheering, I've been fighting"
This man's eyes tear me apart, and I am sweating.
The blade refuses to budge, I am defeated
I ask myself, how can I replace God Himself, and am disquieted
and this angel of a man, in him I see no grudge
I am defeated, the blade refuses to budge.
A peaceful smile appears, as the soldiers make their way
his face wrought with victory, him I wish to embrace
he knows he will die today, but he has no fears
as the soldiers make their way, a peaceful smile appears.
If I was an executioner
I would be a failure pure and simple.
I would believe them.
And I would free them.
If I was the executioner.
They would all ask for me.
Knowing how easy I can be.
No one would cry.
And no one would die.
If I was the executioner.
So you are all voting for me!
What lovely townspeople you are!
Sure I will set you all free.
I am an executioner star!
Wouldn’t it be odd if she didn’t believe,
And ignored the truth that occurred,
Denied all the proof of what other folks saw,
Denied what other folks heard,
Ignoring the transcripts, not wanting to know,
Not asking the folks who were there,
Not digging a bit deeper and doing her job,
Choosing, instead, his despair,
Well, it seems odd to me, these odd looking days,
The witch hunt believes dubious lies,
This uninformed witch chasing disproven stories,
With her phone and her suit and her tie,
Leaving behind her a wasteland of barren,
Destroying a man’s life of build,
Destroying, for no reason, the years of good done,
This innocent man who she killed.
a just judge thats' fair in the unjust judge's case never lost any * - * innocent that's fine twelve of your own guilty peers why would you want them - * executioner the swift hand a quick death rate a sadistic one
Pushed off a cliff,
Down a flight of stairs,
Lying shattered,choking,
In a pool of my own blood.
Defiled and degraded,
Knowing nothing of myself,
Other than my name.
I lay on the cold marble floor.
Absurdly,I thought that I,
Had achieved a state of grace.
Though trampled and gasping,
For I had obeyed my vows.
I castrated myself for my other.
Even sending him other women,
When my maturing femaleness,
Was not ripe enough for his seed.
A quarter of my life was spent,
Not in a blessed union,
But in self imposed imprisonment.
This man was my warden.
Kept confined by his passions,
Illusions,and masterful cruelty.
I had turned the key in the padlock,
And would never use it to flee.
My fate was sealed.
First by my wounds,
Then by the executioner.
Who would be called me.
A tinge of guilt or a twinge of sin
Ghostly pallor on his calloused skin
Taking a man's life away again
Might the hangman's conscience be in pain?
Society's dregs must pay their due
And to him it's just a job to do
Innocent, guilty, it matters not
He must obey those who call the shot.
Tonight he'll have sumptuous dinner
Grateful folks treat him like a winner
Like royalty, not a commoner
A toast to the executioner!
.