You schemed, lied and swore it true,
To the judge, and to God,
To the Jury and to you.
You have been cast an outlaw,
Frowned upon in exile,
Though kind was the Magistrate,
And you live in denial,
That you mocked the Legislate.
Your life was in their hands,
As was the youth you took,
Your scheme reached your demands,
You swore on The Book.
Though as cunning as can be,
You managed to fool The Bar.
The judge and the jury,
You have won by far.
Though is this justice I ask,
For what good is youth stone dead?
In your presence do you bask?
For on your shoulders
Lies a guilty head.