To One in Custody by Ambrose Bierce

Villain! for years you’ve plied your awful trade For wife, for widow and⁠—no, not for maid: Even you’ll confess in chastity one true Advantage⁠—its immunity from you. About your hand, in clamorous appeal, As round the blade of Calmar, shriek and wheel, Like flights of Arctic seabirds, the forlorn Pale ghosts⁠—mothers and babes unborn. Now, villain, now, I pray your time has come⁠— Mercy be deaf and intercession dumb! No more, red-handed, in the path to life May you be found alurk with eager knife, Nor longer o’er the door to death display The sign, “For Ladies.” Lo! day after day For twenty years I’ve read on every wall A handwriting prophetic of your fall. And now the last dread syllable I spell That damns your body to a felon’s cell⁠— Your soul has long awaited you in Hell!