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.
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