Mourning Execution by Axe Hoarder

The executioner’s axe, like the sun, rises and so too must it fall. From the cold light of day cast into endless darkness and the eternal slumber, with one swift act. Two men stand. One to die one to kill. Each with a sentence of their own to bear. The crushing weight of inevitability upon their backs. The day has come and all shall mourn. Both damned. One to everlasting dark, the other with a cruel Sisyphean task. The bells have tolled and both have been summoned.