Elliott Paul Woolhouse

Rookie (13/4/1993 dd/mm/yyyy / Greymouth, New Zealand)

The Executioner - Poem by Elliott Paul Woolhouse

“I am the Executioner,
I am paid to kill,
I am the legal serial killer,
I am the one with the axe,
I am the one to bring it crashing down upon your neck,
I am your worst nightmare,
I am Master of death,
I will kill all who offend,
I am a killer for fun.”

Born and raised in early france,
Went to executions for fun
Watched thieves, killers alike,
Getting the chop every night,
Met with the executioner,
Became his apprentice, learned how to kill,
Practiced on thieves, killers too,
Learned to clean cut, right through.

As I left to pursue my dream,
Got an axe of my very own,
Moved to Paris, Sharpen my axe,
Became their executioner,
French Revolution came around,
Got to kill with a guillotine,
Joined the king in a killing crusade,
Butchered peasants everyday.

I trained a boy, my apprentice he was,
Now he is my executioner,
I am about to die
As I say my last goodbyes
They say I’ll only feel a tickle
‘I’m not afraid, ’ I say to myself,
Now its time to lose my head,
Pull the lever and I’m dead.

Now its judgement time, Heaven or Hell,
I beg mercy for my sins,
But Satan laughing stabs me through,
Doomed forever to live in hell,
I was the executioner,
I was a legal killer,
I was your worst nightmare,
But then I was… Executed! ! !

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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 28, 2008



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