That brief moment
When you look up
And see
You're own neck
Spouting blood
Just after that intimate moment
With Madam Guillotine
And you
Like a candle flickering in the wind
Are hit
With the sudden realization
That this is it
You are no more
Than that
Of a headless chicken
Then you realise
In a micro second
That's the wrong analogy
Else it would be your head
Running round in circles
And for some strange reason
With your last
And dying breath
You laugh!
