I'm sentenced.

Sentenced to life in this dank cell
of misery.
I can see the key-
it hangs there,
just out my finger's reach,
dangling there in a mock of freedom.

There will be no pardon for me,
no stay of this execution.

My life has convicted me
for crimes I did not commit.
My penalty meted out.
I followed every rule,
broke no laws,
have more than paid my fines
to society's shun upon me.

There was no fair trial,
no chance for me to plead my case.
The jurors were sent from hell,
quick to judgement
and showed no mercy
as they read their verdict.

Life/Death, what does it matter?
It’s all the same in this prison.

I am but a mere victim,
the criminal has gotten away,
while I do the time
for fate's crimes against me.

I can't escape the hounds they'd release,
should I attempt escape,
for the walls and barbed wires
are too painful to scale
and the hounds would scent my fear.

So I sit here,
waiting for the day they walk me
that longest mile,
waiting for the flow of their poison
to seep within' my veins.

That lethal injection
that will finally end this misery
of a soul so wrongfully convicted to die.