The Gallows Call

The pallid moon of death stands low.

A mockery its pale light commands.

Beneath black sky's shadow,

I await the barren rage of death's eternal cold,

 where death awaits dawn

and never lasts forever.

I hear the sound that silence cries

as the winds of misfortune turn

pages in my book of life,

and my mind wanders their path.

Every beat of my heart echoes this emptiness in my soul;

while time moves on...

flipping through unwritten chapters,

till the book is read

and dawn comes too soon.

Dawn breaks into sorrow,

as silent voices fall on silenced ears.

Time moves on through timeless years

as dust from the past drifts on the wind in my wake,

and fades as passing night,

to fear of coming dawn.

Through tear filled eyes sunlight is blurred;

but I need to face the light with coming dawn

and suffer this price for my country,

haunted by shades of its un-forgiven past.

With this light, whose radiance warms

the chill of my soul,

my heart bleeds defeat,

and I reach for the sunlight

that brings this new day,

but my arms return empty;

I know there is nothing left.

What key unlocks this door to secrets shared by death?

Is time my prison,

and death...my only key?

Now comes the moment, yet this figure stands proud,

not humbled by this disgraceful death.

I have savored the remnants of my day,

and the shadow of the gallows call

"I only regret that I have but one life

to lose for my country."

Dedicated to Nathan Hale,

Patriot, born; June 6, 1755

Died; September 22, 1776.