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Good-bye.
I’m done.
You’ve won.

I walk to the noose
With calm steps
And a head held high.

I’ll walk alone
Along the steps
I’ve come to know

I feel the rope and it’s
Exactly as I imagined
That it would always feel like.

The boards squeak
And they groan
As I stand upon them.

The boards don’t want me here.
These people don’t want me here.
The persecutors don’t want anyone here.

Among this madness
Of screaming and jibing
I feel sane.

I feel wholesome
and I feel saint-like
as they chant for my neck to break.

Among these people,
Who deem themselves holy
For killing me off

I alone
am able to stand tall
and proud above the crowd.

I’ve commited a crime,
And that I won’t forget,
But these people’s crime is worse.

These people…
They scream like monkeys
For a fellow human being to die.

They think that by throwing
Food and metals at me
That it makes this killing more justified.

It doesn’t though.
I’m dying for my crime now,
But they’ll die for theirs’ soon.

Their treason
Is my reason
To die.