Zèke watched his father wake up
A staunch man quiet and tough
Through the sheets he saw the drill
As the gallow man prepared to leave
The cold hat shielded a gaunt expression
A dead stare ahead of its time
As he made his way before dawn
To a place he called his daily shrine
The man a murderer awaited his time
5:02am was precisely determined
Our gallow man blatantly moved about
Preparing the moment that felt like drought
The stench of death was his incense
A shrouded head his very deity
Mighty strength was all he offered
To the dark gods he imagined at the alter
The gallow-man’s shrine made him an ego
An expression of end, a power of lost
He had caused end too many times
For death had no longer to become his plight
What he felt when he pulled the lever
Service to society, end of an era!!
Who he ended, what he ended?
1 thing was true, he felt no fear.