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Stoof
Bah, Just stoof.
Guillotine
Shimmering steel suspended overhead,
Dreadful calls of those who wish me dead,
Jeers of hate, looks of disgust,
Blade above tarnished with rust,

The crowd gathers around my crumpled frame,
Flocking the scene as moths to a flame,
They seek a show for all to behold,
They seek a corpse, beheaded and cold,

Teeth; clenching,
Innocent heart; wrenching,
Deposed to the will of the mob,
My pride staked on my unwillingness to sob,

Not doubting the end is nigh,
Permitting myself , I oust a sigh,
What a horrible way to meet my demise,
At the roar of a crowd, sent here by lies,

The sky was alight with crimson tidings,
Their eyes were alight with fright,
The blade taunted with morbid chiding,
No perceivable respite,

Silence ensued with the wind,
"Off with my head." with his last words, he grinned.





 
 
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