Executed

In a forgotten room

A young boy waits

For silent death looms

In his dear inmate

The executioner comes

With his scythe blade

Incased in fatal venoms

In the dark nightshade

He grabs the boy

And he pleads himself innocent

But no one believes the guilty choirboy

Is last moment was absent

As the blade

Pierced his skin

He blacked out and all he made

Was all open

To be burned.