All blades may go blunt but yours.
Eternity, you spend sharpening this tool of destruction.
Your face covered, not to see this customary sin.
But today, your head suspends from the pole.
Take him to the gallows.
For by hanging, his fate is determined.
The chopping block must now be his friend.
Hangman, loosen not your noose.
Smile not at your redemption hangman,
For his chopping block craves for your head.
And the axe yearns for a taste of your sullied blood.
Like a hammer loves the anvil.
Today, the table overtuns.
And our faces, not covered.
For we take pride in condemning the duo,
by whose tools, many breaths have been throttled.
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