Grey stone walls wherein confined.
A prisoner can meditate
upon the life he left behind
and curse the vagaries of fate.
What weeps upon the withered walls?
sad shadows from his distant past.
His subconscious does not rest at all.
Reminding him that time can pass.
At different rates according to
the differing of circumstance
When he knew freedom the time flew
But when confines there’s little chance
Of happiness that once knew.
Heed now the knocking on the door.
The iron door which will lead to
the gallows then to nothing more.
What glow through the barred window streams?
The last rays of the setting sun.
Never in his wildest dreams
did he believe he’d be the one.
To die when he was innocent.
For something which he had not done.
It seems that fate will not relent
and that his time is nearly gone.
He has appealed to no avail.
The court confirms that he must die.
The stoutest heart is bound to quail
when facing death. Though he will try
to show that he is not afraid.
There is still chance of a reprieve
Which would correct the error made.
He has no choice but to believe.
That some last minute miracle
will save him from the hangman’s noose.
He knows it is illogical
its all he has. He cannot choose.
To just accept and give up hope.
Although it is improbable.
He might escape the hangman’s rope
He still believes it’s possible.
Who’s are the footsteps he can hear.
which hesitate outside his door.
It opens and confirms his fear.
The chaplain and the governor.
19/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers