The Executionar’s Song

This poem is more a figment of my mind than of a dream. It is a poem about the
executioners of the world and of their struggle against good and evil. It is a poem with
deep meanings that even I don’t fully understand. It is a poem that brings the image of an
executioner to my mind, his mask of innocence removed and his eyes filled with tears.


A song of freedom that some long,
   the last sounds of a world lost to evil,
   a sweet melody of ending,
   a last etude to a world that would have
 another martyr.

A song of apocalypse,
   a sonata that with its pure melody and simplicity
 brings the world closer to its end,
 brings the prophecies of old closer to home.

A song of pure ignorance,
   sung as a last way to molest the persecuted,
   sung as an excuse for murder,
   sung as a last prophecy by an unexpected prophet,
   sung as an unconscious prophecy,
 like a fiddler playing while Rome burned.

A cry during the moral battle before the fall,
   a cry of hope from the blackened soul of the persecutor,
   a cry of hope for a better world,
   to become united as one,
   to be cleansed by his own blood,
 and not the blood of others.

A last sonata to life in the midst of death,
   a last soul-wrenching testimony of the persecutor,
   crying out to the persecuted,
   crying out for a common good,
   a common ground,
 in the quicksand of that moral battlefield.

It screams to be heard,
   it screeches to be understood–
   to be realized,
   for that common ground to finally be gained before
 the fall.

Will that common ground be reached before the
 executioner’s song comes to a soul-wrenching end,
   before its sweet melody is finished,
 before the prophecies of old come true?

Will the common ground,
   the common truth,
   be realized before the persecuted have no more voice amidst
 the madness?

It is a song that cries out its hidden truth,
   a truth that will end the carnage,
   if the world listens,
   if the world…
   the persecuted and the persecutors–
   cry out for sanity and solace,
   for the meaning of the executioner’s song,
   to each other,
 for only then will its message be realized–

We are all the persecuted.

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