The tower

Drip drip drop 
Mimicking the clock
Time slows and doves cry
Eyes staring and dry
At the captive in the room 
Already fading Into the gloom
She knows its coming 
As the drummers start drumming
Her feet are steady
Eyes dry,  shoulders back, pride ready
The cold path is beckoning 
She now faces the reckoning 
Feet stepping dainty
On the cold path which daily
Sends prisoners to the crowd
Sweat beads form on the brow
Dignity is remembered 
Desperation is rendered
Useless, for this sorry task
Where the dawn was the last
She would ever lay eyes upon
Thy kingdom come, thy will is done
Her eyes now are blind
A hand, gentle and kind 
Presses gently, like a breeze
As she is put upon her knees
Jesu save me
Jesu have mercy 
Forgive those that hath sinned
On behalf of this Anna Boleyn 

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