Ballad Of The Hanged Men Poem by Morgan Michaels

You that live whilst we be dead,
friends, for the love of Jesus
find it in your heart to pity us
as you'd be pitied and forgiven;
pity our flesh, falling to nothingness
torn by kites and crows
and our bones crumbling to dust
we who did but as we must-
and pray God pardons us.


Contemplate our fate
we who were men like you,
spinning now at the wind's whim,
spinning at the rope's end
rained on, cured by the sun
eye-holes fished clean
beards rudely gleaned
by shrikes to pipe their nests-
and pray God pardons us.


Verily, though Fortune deals
a different hand to every man,
each of us had a dam:
by His own's intercession,
may Jesu judge us gently
and save us from perdition,
God's mercy softening our merit,
traveler, pity what you see-
and pray, God pardons us.