The Happy Hangman
‘Death’s dredger delayed,’ cries the Skull and the Cloak,
I wait down at heart, the quay at low tide.
My friends are the rats, the rope and the rocks,
The Ferryman screams by the gate of the docks.
The dungeons of my soul racked with my guilt,
To pay for my sins my blood will be spilt,
Too fallen to feel my life has been robbed
My offences to Heaven rise with the smog.
Betwixt Heav’n and Hell my name fit for curse
No appeal judge me granted, my case unrehearsed.
Help never coming, no saviour, no cheer,
Life my tormentor, my enemy clear. 
Fishermen off the island of Tamarind
Wear stone blocks
Around their necks and ankles
Which keep them underwater
Till their deaths.
Unless a pearl-minded friend
Bewitched by a spout of mercy
Notices the flute of bubbles
And offers a hand of relief
To prolong the Torture of Life.