Have you much to say, the axeman asked?
For people who must die will make grand speech
As you must die there is no added risk.
I now grieve for I’ve not done my best
My thoughts surpassed my actions in their reach
Have you more to say, the axeman asked?
Just to ask who else can do my tasks?
At these words, the axeman seemed to flinch
As we will die there is no further risk.
I cannot answer, for from speech I fast.
From that, I ponder if you are a witch
Can you not hope for prayers, the axeman asked?
To tell us you are dumb, you speak at last.
The paradox has entered, logic squashed
As all will die, life has no further risks.
Wandering in my mind I meet the lost.
The Jews, Armenians, gypsies, turned to dust
The backward children, gays, the angels flinch.
The matter of their death puts all at risk.