The Executioner

Off with his head!

But he was still in my heart.

Condemned to death

on my behalf

Of which I did not want

nor need.

The executioner was wearing their black mask

but I knew who was inside.

The blade was coming down

and I was rushing through the crowds of people who should have been there

My white dress following behind me

as tears were pushing themselves down

but the tears were not for the man

They were for the executioner

The man was only in my heart out of grace

but the executioner

but the executioner

but the executioner

was the one who was truly being killed that day

The executioner was trying to saving me

and I, the executioner.

Off with his head!

But he was still in my heart.

Condemned to death

on my behalf

Of which I did not want

nor need.

I run up to the guillotine

and stop the blade

with my hand

A physical reminder of now what I am missing.

The man is still alive,

but part of me is broken

or at least half way to broken.

But all is well

For I stopped the executioner.

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