Description
In shadows cast by scales of justice, grim,
Where laws entwine with fate in solemn hymn,
There stands a figure, cloaked in dark shroud,
The Executioner, by justice's crowd.
With visage veiled, a spectre of the law,
An arbiter of consequence they saw,
A hooded sentinel of verdicts passed,
In courts of fate, his duty steadfast.
His hand, an instrument of stern decree,
Inscribed with tales of guilt and penalty,
With measured steps, he walks the hallowed ground,
Where justice's decree and doom resound.
In one hand, a blade, gleaming cold and keen,
To sever threads of life, a grievous scene.
Yet in his eyes, a weary sorrow lies,
For he, the harbinger of harsh goodbyes,
Bears witness to the human heart's lament,
As life's remorseless gavel finds its end.
In this tableau of justice, stark and raw,
The Executioner, a symbol, draw,
Of laws that carve a path through right and wrong,
In the court of fate, where justice sings its song.