The deriding laughs are cast his way
He lurks behind his complacent grin
They bark and yelp with dogmatic tones
His eyes remain fixed upon the farthest point
A finger points with a most certain accusation
Towards the one man himself who deserves apprehension
He calmly resides in his upright stature
The strident yelps are habitually in symphony
The myriad accusers resume their strife
When all the while he shows no sign of life
There, in his heart he knows his fate
Yet his eyes remain desiccated and concrete
It seems like an eternity – that fateful walk
Down the perilous row of acerbic tongues
But now, he sits like a statue of stone
His features hard and impervious to words
The sentence is read and promulgated throughout
Death – it seems a very novel view
And so the moments fade into a blur
His vision finally stirs to a mix of grief and sorrow
As he rises to his feet he sighs with woe
For today, he knows, an innocent man is dead