Someplace far, far east of here.

A 14 year old boy is tied to a tree on the cusp of a promontory
While a line of five adults and one little girl stand five metres away
Viewing him
With verdant pastures and weatherworn shanties beyond
And law a bygone thing.

(The line of people are holding rocks --
Ancient rocks.
They are set to throw them at the 14 year old boy tied to the tree.)

The little girl steps forward:
Timothy K. Dawson, she says,
The people agree that you have run out of chances --
Do you have any final words?

Timothy K. Dawson looks upward to the girl --

Makes no noise.

(Leviathan waves detonate upon the cliff face below.)

The line of people draw back their arms --
And in that instant Timothy K. Dawson is visited by a thought:
What did I do to these people?
This is the only thing he ever wants to know
As six fatal arms sling down like judgement
Someplace far, far east of here.