Death Row

Brick by brick, up go the walls
Sin stacked tower high on sin
Cemented together by unrepentance
Hardened by a self-willed life
One penitentiary. One cell. One prisoner.
A rebellious artist,
Masterfully drawing the bars of his own prison
The architect of his own incarceration
Patrolled by bad habits, policed by his own vices
His only companions are his echoing, drawn out sighs,
And the tormentuous, endless hissing of time
Too bad he spat in the face of the One who came to pardon him
All he has now is the memory of a life spent on death row

-And a long, long, long Wait.

Thom Jankowski