You’ve heard of eeny meanie
How he died a fitting death
He had more fame, it seems to me
Than Shakespeare or Macbeth
Held accountable he was
After capture and a bounty
For the sins Stephen Duncan
Boss of Issaquena County
Too bad for mister miney mo
He’ll have to pay the price
Out to the Mississippi Bridge
We’d love to hang him twice
Held to dangle by the toe
So that everyone would know
Said the slaven to the hangman
If he hollers let him go
Copyright © Mike Martin 2015
Categories:
slaven, political, racism, slavery,
Form: Ode
Deep in the darkest halls of hell
The air is thick and black as night
The ravens crow is only heard
To mark a death or a dying right
A bleeding hound devours prey
A flaming witch her heart ablaze
A molten brand of steel and fire
Crosses burn while sinners gaze
Make haste the wolf its lashing tongue
A wild abomination
Make waste the jackal lies in wait
A joyous indignation
Tower of brimstone pillar of smoke
No star or moon or sky about
Only darkness ever rising
Ever reaching cloud of doubt
Plunging depths of flowing lava
Rivers streaming all a scatter
Deeper caverns never carved
Hope or faith could never matter
Welcome boss man, Stephan Duncan
For all of your atrocities
For all your crimes against the slaven
For hundreds of eternities
Welcome, the thugs of old New York
Mass murder in the street
The dons of Philly and Saint Louis
The tommy guns defeat
Despair and pain without relief
All who thrive there know it well
Damned for all eternity
In the deepest darkest halls of hell
Copyright © Mike Martin 2015
Categories:
slaven, analogy, evil, fantasy, horror,
Form: Ballad