I can remember hearing the wind
Howling in pain
Running through the crowd of dark-eyed gawkers
Waiting to see their show
The large willow
Standing ominously against the sun
Blocking all forms of light
All forms of good
From all who stand under it
It's knarled branches twist toward the sky
Reaching greedily for something it can never have
Dark greys and blacks cover the willow's bark
Some call it the devil's tree
Others prefer not to call it anything at all
A rope made into a noose
Hangs from the tree
Slung over one of the most twisted branches
By a man dressed in black
Hood and all
The noose sways in the cold breeze as the dark-eyed gawkers cheer
Their voices shrill and their souls dead
Dead like their eyes
Their crooked grins and sadistic laughs
Still ring in my ears
A platform was under the noose
Under which
The trapdoor to my doom lay waiting to open
And deliver me swiftly to the hereafter
I stepped up to the noose
With what was left of my courage
For I knew my time had come
Feeling the wind across my brow one last time
I wonder if there is a hereafter
What lay beyond the sunset
What lay beyond my dreams
I fear there is nothing at all
And simply that I cease to be
Before I am pushed
And my worst fears confirmed.

 
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