The Tumbrel's Lament

The tumbrel rumbles, a wooden groan,

Through cobbled streets, a mournful moan.

Its prisoners watch, their spirits dim,

A final journey, a somber hymn.

The tumbrel creaks, a weary sound,

As shadows lengthen, on hallowed ground.

Each clatter echoes, a dreadful sign,

Of fate's decree, a cruel design.

The tumbrel stops, a final stare,

At walls that rise, beyond compare.

The condemned step, with trembling feet,

A destiny bitter, a tragic beat.

The tumbrel leaves, a silent plea,

For souls released, eternally free.

But in the dust, the memory stays,

Of tumbrels' woes, in countless ways.