Ballad of the Epitaph (The Hanging)

I.
haunting refrains rise,
then fall, beneath

ebony hands
plucking
away at sun-kissed cords

as the metronome keeps time,
each swing slower
...than the first

II.
from behind ivory,
feathered boas, divas
sing

like vultures,

they circle, waiting
then perched

on limbs bowing
from the weight,
swaying...echoing
the tick, tick, tick

of the metronome
each swing slower
...than the first

'til that one, final note nears...

III.
his breath now shallow,
he finds no voice to speak

his thoughts mirrors
the songbird, who,
from the window,
coos gently, sweetly

soothing the soul
as spectators gather
like before the big game,
cheering "Hum Pooh Bah"

when the last breath is taken
and the cords give way

coiling to the ground
in the shape
that still hangs
around his neck

as the last refrain fades away...