A Pale Scrawl
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You won't suffer the cut

2/22/2017

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Picture
You put me on trial
In your kangaroo court
Fabricated charges
Created damning evidence
Bribed the jury
And convicted me without hearing my testimony


You sentenced me to death
Dealt the final blow yourself
Watched as I twitched my last
You were satisfied
For a moment or two


You've had time to think
Haunted by my silent, wide eyed ghost
Realized the choice was wrong
You still can't fully confess your folly


You'd like to resurrect me
Thinking your powers of persuasion
Can bring back your dead
My body may animate
Words may come from my tongue
Smooth and hard like sea-glass
But you're not that skilled
Nor observant enough
To note there's no glint
My irises dull and milky
Stones instead of suns


The dead will only rise
When they know
You won't kill them again
A pact signed in your blood
But you won't suffer the cut


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