I sit here, 

Gazing at the stone wall.  

I hear protests, 

I hear screams, 

I smell the flesh that burns.  

But nothing changes, 

Here I am,

still waiting, 

Awaiting my death. 

We all sat in the waiting room, 

Dreading the day our name would be called.  

We would rise, 

One by one, 

A sacrifice for god, 

A sacrifice to all the injustice.  

We all will rise, 

And our cells will empty, 

As our flesh will be the only thing of us left.  

Other will come.  

They will take my place, 

Where I sit right now.  

Waiting, 

Just waiting, 

For days, 

Weeks,

Months, 

Years, 

Waiting for their death.  

I feel the pain, 

I feel my hands being tied, 

Again.  

I could see their faces, 

Their merciless faces.  

The faces that slammed me down, 

Again, 

And again. 

‘You are the murderer, 

You are the ni****’.  

But what have I done, 

What have I done to deserve this.  

Nothing.  

And here I will die, 

Their hands holding me down. 

As the first bolt goes through my body, 

I will see the faces of my loved ones, 

I will scream out, 

That pain becoming too intolerable.  

And suddenly, 

My body will grow limp.  

And I will die an innocent murderer, 

I will die in the hands of justice.  

And then with a jolt I wake up, 

I sit up on the bed.  

I’m no longer awaiting my death, 

My death awaits me now. 

As slowly my memories flog in front of me, 

And all I remember is the injustice, 

And that’s where my mind wander off to, 

That’s where it always seem to be, 

In one of the cells in death row.  

They might’ve not have killed me, 

But they murdered my spirit.  

Burning it, 

In that cell.