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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #948726
One man's final hours

"The Final Walk"

Lost in thought on a final night.
Life is fleeing, this is my plight.
A damp draft chills me to the bone,
Darkest corridor and I feel alone;

They won't call me for any more mail.
I'm feeling sick and a little frail.
What difference does it all make?
Stop the insanity for Heaven's sake!

The truth was there in accusing eyes.
For what it's worth, I finally realize,
All my deceptions would never entice,
That at some time we all pay a price.

I'll get my last meal at nine tonight.
At eleven a Priest gives me last rites.
Guards will take me for a final walk.
My end close, no empty pleas to talk!

Weak kneed, they'll take me to a room.
Scared and sweating I walk to my doom.
Place an electric crown upon my head.
They'll throw a switch and I'll be dead;



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© Copyright 2005 T.L.Finch (t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/948726-The-Final-Walk