Hang your head in gentle dread, for all the fools mistakes you’ve made,
For all plays of the game un-played, and all the words you left unsaid,
For all the terrible trades you made, for solemn oaths you pledged and broke,
Apologies you left unspoke, and tip of scales you left un-weighed,
For all the charges on your scroll, and coins of silver in your hand,
Heaved in vain across this land, for this bridge takes a different toll,
And poisons laced upon your lips, that seeped into your virgin soul,
Condemning you to feel unwhole, from beating heart to fingertips,
Will run as tears across your cheek, until your eyes can cry no more,
And drip in droplets to the floor, and leave only your truths to speak,
True, you should’ve held your nerve, and true you should’ve held your oath,
And true enough you failed at both, and so should, “Get what you deserve,”
But we are not your judge it’s true, it’s not to us you must implore,
Nor will we settle any score, let conscience be the judge of you.
And restive peace cannot be yours, when demons burn within your breast,
Nor angels put your fears to rest, until you’ve answered for your flaws.
But do not fear the hand of death, there is still time to right your wrongs,
So face your God’s, be brave, be strong, for there’s still hope while there’s still breath.