They gather to the place, the one you are most aware
To the standing where no one see nor hear despair
Their minds are in place but not where you would wish to know
The rope tightens once more with each loop, it's a good show
On the stand two remain with time eternally spent
Where the innocent destroy the guilty, and the guilty breath content
Bathing in the rejoice of difference meeting demise
There is nothing human left behind any of their eyes
" Any last words? " the one whom weaves asks in empty tone
The man nods to them all, his skin bleached to the bone
" I will cease to a crowd but know this last stand. "
" When the rope comes for you. Alone your blood will land. "
His neck breaks and his form goes limp for all to see
They rejoice in ignorance, the darkness no longer free
But There is an emptiness inside all whom come to bare
You all die the same to us. Your means do not fare.