A Hangman's Duty
The rope swings;
Heavy to the wind,
Guilty from burden;
Those burdened with sin.
The rope swings;
Never to bend,
For Master's wish wanted
Is a wish to befriend.
The rope swings;
Lightly now and daunted,
As the sinner is pure,
And the hangman haunted.
The rope swings;
The Master her jure
Deems her at fault,
Proclaims her death sure.
The rope swings;
His conscience the default,
For as twine brushes flesh,
It is his hand that does halt.
The rope swings;
Only air to enmesh.
No weight to bear.
No life to thresh.