The Hanged Man

The Hanged Man's eyes opened wide,
he smiled through black teeth.

He beckoned me close,
swinging so slight,
from his crooked tree.

He tried to talk,
but only gaged,
his ropes were bound too tight.

From the sky, ravens cried,
spying easy meat.

They swarmed and cawed,
yet the man still stared,
still smiled right at me.

And then he reached up,
and started to climb,
he climbed enough to speak.

His voice was that of knives,
tipped with poison ice.

"COME DEAR BOY, SWING WITH ME!
LET'S GIVE THESE BIRDS A FEAST"