The Firing Squad
The sky lightens, soon a new sun will rise
The prisoner stands tall, no hood for his eyes
For his sins there will be no atoning
He is ready for this modern stoning
Six men wait to carry out his sentence
Steadfast, strong and heedless of his offense
One man carries a pistol and power
The others carry rifles and glower
Each man hoping that his bullet is blank
Each man grateful not to be higher rank
No blame to accept, no blood on their hands
No guilt to feel, just following commands
They have not come here today to play God
They are just the men of the firing squad
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