The Hangman's Repent
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 8:12 pm
The Hangman’s Repent
© Stephen Whiteside 11.04.2012
Do your worst, aye, shoot me down, or simply run me through.
The time has come I will no longer be a servant true.
I did your ugly bidding once. At last, those days are done.
I stand now at the mercy of your dagger and your gun.
Once I stood, just like this man, condemned to hang to death.
I couldn’t face this bitter end. I valued high my breath.
Too much, indeed, I valued it, agreed to bitter trade,
And that is how the hangman for this settlement was made.
But hangman I will be no more, for this is not a life,
Living off the miseries and sufferings and strife
Of men whose crimes are never more than mine, and often less.
My cowardice, my selfishness, I seek now to redress.
I will not hang this man who has been sentenced here to die.
It’s time at last that from my flesh my spirit free should fly.
I see the mask of fury and I hear the shouted threat,
But nothing will deter me as I now repay my debt.
A dead man standing, that is what I know myself to be,
Yet not since boyhood have I felt so sure and strong and free.
I see the faces of lost friends, lost friends I’ll see once more,
For soon I will be knocking, Lord, upon sweet Heaven’s door!
© Stephen Whiteside 11.04.2012
Do your worst, aye, shoot me down, or simply run me through.
The time has come I will no longer be a servant true.
I did your ugly bidding once. At last, those days are done.
I stand now at the mercy of your dagger and your gun.
Once I stood, just like this man, condemned to hang to death.
I couldn’t face this bitter end. I valued high my breath.
Too much, indeed, I valued it, agreed to bitter trade,
And that is how the hangman for this settlement was made.
But hangman I will be no more, for this is not a life,
Living off the miseries and sufferings and strife
Of men whose crimes are never more than mine, and often less.
My cowardice, my selfishness, I seek now to redress.
I will not hang this man who has been sentenced here to die.
It’s time at last that from my flesh my spirit free should fly.
I see the mask of fury and I hear the shouted threat,
But nothing will deter me as I now repay my debt.
A dead man standing, that is what I know myself to be,
Yet not since boyhood have I felt so sure and strong and free.
I see the faces of lost friends, lost friends I’ll see once more,
For soon I will be knocking, Lord, upon sweet Heaven’s door!