Trapped

Trapped behind prison walls

With no doors or bars

He sat among the others

In solitary confinement.

No will to escape even

Though no one

Guards the gate

To stop him or

The other inmates

From walking to freedom.

Helplessness erodes

His face as his

mind surrenders to

A fate created by him

Which has become

A death sentence.

No parole board

To review his case

Or governor to offer

Clemency.

He can already feel

The custom fit noose

Around his neck

With each passing day

It grows tighter.

Death is playing tag

With him, this time

He is it.

He is the walking dead

In need of resuscitation.

One-one thousand,

Two-one thousand,

Three-one thousand.

The salvation offered by

Christ breathes new life

Into a soul once lost.