The Hangman's Last Story

The pen touched the crumbling paper Leaving a pattern on the crumpled sheet The hand that wrote Shook a little Shook a little Drawing a pattern But the letters clung to the uneven lines Uneven lines on the crumpled sheet On the crumpled sheet a pattern was drawn As if writing a sentence to himself An old gray-haired wrinkled executioner That the witch was executed at dawn A little trembled Pattern drawing But the letters clung to uneven lines Uneven lines on the crumpled sheet Her words through the breath of the fire Will never forget Not the witch was killed here you at all the executioner And his own old age! A little trembled Pattern drawing But the letters clung together in uneven lines Uneven lines on a crumpled sheet And the one i burned at the stake Came to me in a dream Taking my entire youth with her Leaving only a few pathetic days She trembled slightly Drawing a pattern But the letters clung together in uneven lines Uneven lines on a crumpled sheet