Behind iron bars, he sits alone. Tears flow unchecked, as the old man awaits the end. A clang announces the guards trip. A journey to the cell. The man sits head bowed, knowing the end shall come. Welcoming the release found at the end of the tunnel. No sound is uttered, no noise heard. As the guard takes him along the walk. Solemn silence, respectful thoughts, for the man, who goes with bowed head. From one tomb to the other. Entering the chamber. The man lies down upon the steel engraved table. Unnoticed to the guard, another presence waits. One without material form. Yet, encompassing the room. Looking at this spectre, the man's eyes are clear, knowing his debt will soon be paid. As the needle slides and the poison flows. Tears well, and fall unchecked. His life of pain, of struggle, and terror, are quickly becoming fragments of the past. As he fades into the void, he utters two words. A plea. "Forgive me."