At dawn's last breath

give me a desk
a desk
a pen
and a notebook
to chronicle eternity
even if there's no one beyond it

no attentive reader
or subtle censor
no infuriated student
or drunken lecturer

I am judgemental
or so they tell me
but I wonder who's there to judge
if the cells are empty
and I see nothing
but hangmen
with bibles under their belts

sooner or later
walking into this room
-they'll know why no more than me-
I shall be asked to rise
for the calling of the noose
its shadow dangling loosely
in the morning sun
that is still too weak to break
the cold and sweetness
of dawn's last breath

- do you have any requests?
but one, sir
- speak up
raise a flower on my blood
if you will

Into twilight.