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Execution (Remove filter)

Shot at dawn

drugged by morphine
the blue light comes to you
when the squad opens fire
the coward goes to hell
the officers are heroes

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shot at dawnexecutionsquadcowardww1

The First Lady of Strangeways

A Victorian street in Ashton

The home of Mary Ann

A married mother of two

Who hatched a cunning plan

Factory worker by day

And barmaid by night

She purchased a packet of Harrisons

To see off an infestation of mice

 

Topped her daughter for tenner

‘Epilepsy’ took her fellas life

She fancied the bloke ‘cross the road, so

Next she killed his wife

Peelers got sus...

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Executionvictorian era

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

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free versedarkExecutionpsychopathPsychologyDeath rowcold bloodedmurchild murder

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

free versedarkExecutionpsychopathPsychologyDeath rowcold bloodedmurchild murder

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

free versedarkExecutionpsychopathPsychologyDeath rowcold bloodedmurchild murder

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

free versedarkExecutionpsychopathPsychologyDeath rowcold bloodedmurchild murder

The Psychopath

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

free versedarkExecutionpsychopathPsychologyDeath rowcold bloodedmurchild murder

A poem for Ashraf Fayadh


Saudi courts, your rule of fear is finished
- the sentence on this poet negates your faith.
Your hollow incantation "God Is Great"
is plainly false if God can be diminished
by lines of verse. Should murder be admonished
to Ashraf Fayadh, forevermore his fate
will hold as evidence that you're afraid 
of poetry. Frankly I'm astonished:

astonished that a land so steeped in culture,
in li...

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Ashraf FayadhSaudi Arabiafree speechexecutionpoetrypoetatheismreligion

Come Me Hither I, to Die

Good people of this Christian land,
Here before you now I stand
And come me hither I, to die,
For by the law condemned am I,
And not a word in protest muttered,
Let not a ‘treachery’ be uttered,
These lands demand my soul depart,
By pain of death and muted heart.

For at thy King’s pleasure, ‘tis true,
I soon, to take my leave of you,
I pass not blame, nor beg for life,
...

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Executionroyaltykingdeathpoem

Shot at Dawn

`

 

 

At nineteen you were still a child
hopping off to an aggrandised war
filled with romantic and exuberant air

At nineteen you travelled over the channel
to Mons, by the Belgian border marching
there receiving the horrors of humiliated retreat

At nineteen you went missing
first in Dublin taking leave wi...

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ExecutionMonsforgivenesspardonDesertionWWIWar

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