Tuesday, December 06, 2005

A Poem Draft

Angel on the Gallows

Ruthlessness of law establishes
one path, and one alone;
as proportionment itself requires,
each shall have its due.
Tho' he be as pure in every else
as snow on mountain summits,
for each jot we take a tittle,
and by little piled upon little,
from droplets an ocean forms.
No excuses will be accepted
(the balance must be right);
the penalty shall fall
without regard for plea or plight.
As others have now suffered,
the gallows will be made;
for treason to our customs
he is assigned his proper death.
And we sit in aureate judgment,
in the glow of well-deserved pride,
for our rightness has returned rightness,
and the criminal has died.

Cold comfort, O ye children,
who cannot see the grace
that shines in every heart's hearth
and glows in every face.
Tho' you be as right as compasses,
tho' you flatter yourselves with law,
a higher Judge is judging
who holds each soul in awe!

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