where i pray to rise

I am holy
with this noose around
my neck, the trap
door below
my boots.
trembling
beneath my hooded
face, wet.
I am as holy as any man
can be
when faced
with eternity,
the unknown that awaits
beyond these
steps,
the faces below, these
sins I've heartily
confessed.
I am a good man who
just went astray,
who hasn't,
who is without sin
I want to yell out,
to say.
but then I hear the latch
click
and the snap of twine
below the bitter
blue sky
as birds scatter
black, each one, from
the thick
green trees, upwards
where I pray
to rise.