IconElegies

My profession was an executioner. Already in the second generation. I knew that people hated me, but I did my job only for money, without feelings, quickly, professionally. I executed over 3,000 people, guilty or innocent, it didn't matter to me, and it wasn't my job to judge it. It was my job and I was good at it, and I got praise for it. I executed those condemned by the Nazis and then the Nazis. My services were in demand. They hated me in vain, I was just doing my job. A note from a poet. Johann Reichhart was a German executioner who used a German version of the guillotine in his executions.

I came back from the dead, but I didn't get to heaven. I should be dead, but I live and speak. They wanted to kill me, because I deserved it. I had been preparing for 30 years to leave, but when the time came, I came back. I don't know if I will live again, a soul that would have been forgiven and would live. I had already given up my life, spoken my last words. Poet's Note. Christa Pike was sentenced to death, but she survived the execution.

I was born poor, I died poor. I was a hero, then a murderer. Did you do it, O.J.? Did you kill your wife and that man? Those were the questions I heard. Nothing else in my life was interesting. If I did it, I probably wouldn't tell you about it. I was never convicted of murder. It was a circus. When I died, my children came to see me, even those whose mother died. Whether I went to heaven or hell, I won't tell. A Poet's Note. O.J. Simpson was a sports and movie star who was accused of murdering his wife.

I, an orphan boy, Billy the Kid, had met men face to face, but never seen my killer. A coward from the dark. I do not know who shot me, though my killing was boasted of and I was put on display. Billy the Kid, no one remembers my real name, hardly even myself. Even in my grave may lie the wrong man, but what joy, that even the tombstone of a thief like me was stolen. Now the tombstone is behind bars, as a thief should be. Poet's note. Billy the Kid, real name Henry McCarty, was one of the most famous gunfighters of the Wild West.

I was called a Blood Countess, who bathed in the blood of young women, killed after kill until she was bricked up in her room. I say: The truth is always determined by the victor, who gets to tell his story. I had plenty of time to prepare for my own death. With my cold hands, I had to pray. Erzsébet (Elisabeth) Báthory was alleged to have murdered hundreds of young women.

I couldn't stand being abandoned. It was all too much for me. I wanted to keep them with me, so they wouldn't go away. But they wanted to go. They will stay with me forever. I deserved my fate, indeed I sought it, my blood was deserved. Poet's Note. Jeffrey Dahmer is still one of the most famous serial killers.

 It was my divine play in the mental hospital. The actors were crazy, the director was crazy (me), everything was crazy, and the Parisian nobility loved it all. Of course it had to end. That too was taken from me, the bloated, sick sadist. Oh. All those manuscripts of mine, which my son destroyed. A note from a poet. The Marquis de Sade, was a writer.

They celebrated my downfall over my still warm body. And yes, I died, but look at your rivers, there are my beloved hippos. I escaped from a prison I paid for myself, because I made a mistake killing gringos, they won't forgive that. For the poor, for my own people, I'm still alive, Robin Hood. I only murdered those who opposed me for whom silver was not enough, then lead. Poet's note. Pablo Escobar is still a well-known drug lord long after his death.

My name was John Holmes. I fucked thousands of women, sometimes for money. I certainly didn't live in Wonderland. John Holmes wasn't my real name, of course. I was known for my big cock, I was the king of porn, a high school dropout, and I had the biggest dick in the business. Everything is bigger in America. I wasn't a good person, I was addicted to cocaine, violent, a criminal. I was unhappy and it destroyed me. Poet's Note. John Holmes is still one of the most famous porn actors.

I was supposed to become something, something other than the mafia. I died alone, me, Don Michael Corleone. They took my dearest, only daughter from me. I have committed many sins, killed many because I had to, my own brother, my mother's son. I guess it was right that I died alone, not even murdered, in Sicily, for which I killed. Poet's Note. Michael Corleone is a character in The Godfather series.

I knew our fate would soon be at hand, it was just a question of when. We are romantic heroes now, but our lives  were nothing more than an escape. People  just hated the banks and the authorities that we disciplined. But they won't let go. That's what outlaws are. I would have liked to be buried side by side, but our families wouldn't let us. At least we died side by side. Only death separated us. Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow were a legendary outlaw couple.

I only did what I was told. I had to hide behind it, because there was no other option. Emotions have no part in this. I considered myself an official of Death, An architect of destruction, but I don't want glory for this. Who would? I have no regrets, I only did what I was told. Poet's note. High-ranking Nazi Adolf Eichmann was responsible, among other things, for transports to death camps during World War II.

They still fear me, even though I'm gone. They wonder what I knew, and made my own decisions about my life. Jeffrey Epstein is still a name. And I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, even though I'm gone. Prison wasn't fun, why would I stay there, I belonged in glory, not misery. A poet's note. Jeffrey Epstein, who knew the rich and famous, is still the news of the day years after his death.  

My name is Andreas Lubitz. I woke up this morning, which I have decided will be my last. If I have enough courage, it must be enough. I was born into a life that should have been going well. I was not feeling well. I did not feel alive. I am a co-pilot. I want to fly. I cannot become a captain  if I tell you everything that I feel. What will I have left if I tell you. The cheap wings of Germany fly. We fly cheap. People are cheap. I am only interested in flying. I do not feel anything. We take off from Barcelona, ​​once again. They are coming from their cheap trip. I wonder if they have not been robbed. Barcelona is a city of crime. This has been done many times. Flight. My flight is almost over. This is a short flight. They call me inexperienced. Just go to the bathroom. I will be remembered for this act. Do I want it? I don't want it. I want it. I don't know. I have to decide, right now. I will. I will be remembered. I've always wanted to fly. I'm going crazy. I just ...

They got him, Jesus Malverde, They killed him, Jesus Malverde, the thief who took from the rich, and gave to the poor. The angel of the poor, the saint of thieves. The saint  who was not consecrated by the church, loved by the people, and hated by the rich. Poet talks:  Jesus Malverde was  kind of Robin Hood-like person. Also a narco saint. So interesting person.