Hanging Day

I believe you see me,
Here standing before the noose.
What dark eyes bleed black?
Something that crawls across the floor,
Covets blood more than a vampire.

The lips pull in,
Gulping in drafts that roll the eyes.
A shuttering breath catches in the throat that
falls with the body,
A sickening thump against the ground.

Green glass eyes roll from the sockets
Taken and played with by devils.
The young take paint the rivers of blood and make circles-
Following curves within curves deeper in until black lines move-
Swallowing little hands and voices.

The scull sits in my lap-
Laughing its misfortune to the world,
And you sit there with a lock of hair and
A watch from the white rabbit in your hand as you beg:
The child, the child, where is my child...
And the room breaks into laughter

The masquerade continues around you,
The bodies falling in waves to the floor,
And the last is left on the torturers chair and waits-
Holding the executioner's lever
And when the wood is dropped the neck will snap,
And the answer dies with the swinging body.