.
The Hanging of
the Innocent Man
By Cullen M. Waters
I see not from eyes within
I hear not over the rising din
I feel not the growing breeze
I speak not with frightening ease
The way I travel, once white with snow
Is but the way I dare not go
And growing great gray clouds do shed
Icy cold tears upon my head
When I stumble here unto the ground
As darkness threatens without a sound
Oh, what sin have I committed?
To which great crime have I admitted?
What dread deed do I dare not see?
By what right must this be?
I see not from eyes without
I hear not though they scream and shout
I feel not save the growing fear
I speak not now bleak Death draws near
White noose around my neck grows taunt
And this life no longer I haunt
The gray people around me they do gasp
Why they did this I cannot grasp
But as darkness ends this awful dream
A last thing I try to scream
“What sin did I commit!
To what great crime did I admit!
‘Tis your dread deed you dare not see?
By what right you let this be?”
All cry innocence in Death’s sweet face
But none escape His tight embrace
No matter what truth appeared
Nor what truth was truly feared
(The poem appeared on welltuncares.wordpress.com)
PS : This is a sketch I made while I was abroad
the Innocent Man
By Cullen M. Waters
I see not from eyes within
I hear not over the rising din
I feel not the growing breeze
I speak not with frightening ease
The way I travel, once white with snow
Is but the way I dare not go
And growing great gray clouds do shed
Icy cold tears upon my head
When I stumble here unto the ground
As darkness threatens without a sound
Oh, what sin have I committed?
To which great crime have I admitted?
What dread deed do I dare not see?
By what right must this be?
I see not from eyes without
I hear not though they scream and shout
I feel not save the growing fear
I speak not now bleak Death draws near
White noose around my neck grows taunt
And this life no longer I haunt
The gray people around me they do gasp
Why they did this I cannot grasp
But as darkness ends this awful dream
A last thing I try to scream
“What sin did I commit!
To what great crime did I admit!
‘Tis your dread deed you dare not see?
By what right you let this be?”
All cry innocence in Death’s sweet face
But none escape His tight embrace
No matter what truth appeared
Nor what truth was truly feared
(The poem appeared on welltuncares.wordpress.com)
PS : This is a sketch I made while I was abroad
