I
stand upon the wooden gallows
noose
around my neck, soon dead.
I
dove in deep; avoiding shallows,
and
now I see I've made my bed.
Standing
here do I regret,
the
evil that I've said and done?
Only
that which I've beget,
Standing
there below; my son.
A
highwayman, I robbed for him.
I
murdered, stole and took with need.
And
though my soul is stained with sin,
For
him I did each evil deed.
And
as they ask for final words,
I
see his face, ashamed of me.
Though
this may seem quite absurd,
it
pleases me to see.
