Justice

by Cliff Lake

To the executioners block he walks,
There is no hesitation.
The deed done by his hand,
He would not lie to escape this fate.
He would do the thing again,
He walks without remorse.
Was this justice?
Or had that been served
To they that he had taken.
He sees her,
Those eyes pierce him,
Maddened now,
A mind broken,
A life spoiled,
She will live this way,
Low reviled these days,
By those she must live among,
Though she be the true victim.
What joy in life she may have had,
Forever taken.
But not so broken she,
That she does not understand his deed,
She smiles and it is too sad,
Too twisted,
By what now raves within her,
She is forever torn.
Her arm shoots up,
And a single bloom clears the barrier,
Angling for him,
The last gift he will receive.
He manages a nod,
And what passes for a smile,
The last gift he will give.
It is little enough between them.
Is there justice here?
His last thought is

Cliff Lake 3/21/2024
Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024