Angel Eyes

based on a strange dream i had... inspired by the song i heard as i dozed off to sleep.

The skies of crystalline hue.
The breeze blows effortlessly through the fields.
Trees sway and swish in the wind at the edge...
And in the center the masses gather,
the raised wooden platform,
trapdoor ready and set to release,
the large executioner stood ominously at the far right.
Five guards dressed in uniform stood at the rear of the platform.
The crowd mingled and chattered amongst each other loudly.

All fell silent.

Her foot steps strode up the steps at the rear,
two guards each tightly griping one of her arms.
The first five’s eyes followed her slowly.
Her hair covered her face,
ragged and tattered were her clothes,
her hair skewed and speckled with bits of hay
from the floor of her cell.
She looked to be a hideous peasant.
The shackles around her wrists had worn her skin.
Blood was dripping tentatively off her fingertips,
leaving swirling trails across the gallows in her wake.
She stood...
The rope swinging mercilessly just behind her.
The guards scurried to their position at the edge of the gallows.
The crowd remained silent.
Dead silent.

The executioner stood...
The crowd roared.

Hunks of food and garbage hurled at the woman,
her face still hidden beneath her hair.
Screams echoed of horrid slurs and insults.
The people spat at the gallows screaming vulgarity...

She raised her head...
The crowd once again fell silent.

Before them stood not a dirtied peasant..
But instead the most beautiful creature they had ever witnessed.
There lives had been propagated with tragedy...
Yet the site of her face and her eyes...
Those eyes...
Made them fall silent and all thoughts ceased.
It was as if she gazed at every man woman and child...
One by one...
Each for an eternity.
She cast her demons all away.
Slipped them to the crowd,
the guards,
the horrid executioner.
They all felt it.
The darkness creeping over their hearts.
The could not cheer,
nor mourn.
Her tattered clothes and ragged hair seemed...
Non existent in the presence of her magnificent face...

and her celestial eyes.

The executioner hesitated to take hold the rope...
The crowds silence faltered him..
The guards grew unsteady.
It seemed everlasting,
the time they waited.
The executioner took a hold of it...
He raised it reluctantly behind her.
She continued to stare into the people...
Never wavering despite her impending mortality.
She bore the brunt of someone else’s sins...
She was not saddened...
She knew not who she protected with her own self...
But they lived.
They continued.
She did not.
He raised it above her head...
And this executioner...
Who felt no remorse...
Gathered a tear...
More.
From the view he witnessed...
The guards...
The people.
As he held the rope...
Just above her head.

The rope silhouetted her existence above her..

Her death...
Her noose...

Her halo.

Author's Note

as usual... tell me what you think.

Reviews

[Lady Lazarus.]

"The rope silhouetted her existence above her.."
is a perfect perfect line.
This poem has an incredible and so sad narrative but its beautiful and very deep.
your way with words is breathtaking.
I can't wait to read more of your work.