The executioner swanned along
the corridors that smelt of perpetual repair,
With the Cheshire cat's grin on her grim lips,
Paused a moment on the way
to cheer the bearded man's music
not knowing it was sad.
And entered where her staff were at work,
Executed the day's scrutiny,
Ordered a hand chopped off here
and a head there,
before retreating to her air-conditioned comfort zone
with job satisfaction in her religious heart.