The Bite

The wolf's lough eerie cracks the humid night air
 The rabbit freezes the fox in his lair
 The owl hoots shrilly searching the dark
 The moon white flangs through the trees tall and stark
 Who would emerge on a night like this
 Who would loose his bonds and greet the air with a hiss
 The battered Christian down his head in despair
 The crown of sharp thorns revealed 'neath his hair
 His scrawny body worn tnin by the trial
 Stand taut and painful on the pilgrim's last mile
 A million fleshy things converge upon the spot
 His eye retort the atmosphere is hot
 The wolf sniffs ivory fanged he bristles up his spine
 The fox smiles knowingly but dares not step out of line
 Through the twisting crushing silence
 The broken Christian creeps
 Each footstep like a thunderclap
 Among the trunky deeps
 No bird make sound no creature moves
 To break the gripping air
 The Christian he raises, his hand up to his mouth
 But for a whisper he cannot dare
 The Christian wakes trembles with sweat
 The cell's dark walls stony and wet
 Metallic echoes as the bolts are drawn back
 The doors swing inwards dull light through the crack
 The jailer looks indifferent to him
 The routine morning martyr's death for him
 A misty cold sad morning
 Greets the Christian's haggard grin
 The rope is slung and the noose is tied
 But Christian's neck is thin
 The block is raised he stands erect
 The rope beneath his chin
 They pull the block
 And the Christian drops
 He hangs above the scene.