Death Knell

Nine bells for a man.

One.

An old custom.

Two.

Ringing the church bell when someone dies.

Three.

I stand barefoot on the cold stone steps.

Four.

Listening to the ringing metal.

Five.

Ringing for my father.

Six.

And I am glad.

Seven.

The bastard is gone.

Eight.

I feel the pustules under my arms.

Nine.

Soon it will ring for me.

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