O how the hanged man must feel to be at last at peace,
To hang there in eternal suspension,
Until someone gives a dam to get him down.

To be a sign to all,
To fear the hanger,
To feed the vultures that have picked at you all a long.  

And what about the moment the rope constricted the life out of him,
Squeezing like one would to a sponge,
But instead pain and gore, not bubbles and suds.

Did he die smiling?
That is what matters.
So he won't be a menacing image but a friendly reminder.

Obey your government or you'll pay the price,
Defy them,
And they'll ruin your life.  

They have a rope for us all!
Our lives planned out from the draw!
A death from a blissful rope.

Have we lost all hope?