A firing squat

Days go by like water droplets falling down a window in a rainy day,

and time stops being of any use in the eternal night of a prison cell.

I await a sentence that I know is coming, but to torture me

the guards walk slowly, at the rhythm of a funeral march.

They bring with them bad news, I can feel it in the heaviness of the air

and the suffocating silence coming from all the other prison cells.

My crime is very much irrelevant, my identity as well, but it is tradition

for one of the guards to read the sentence to the condemned.

Frankly a waste of time in my view, there was already a silent understanding of

what was about to occur since the very first step taken in the stone hallway,

the first echo. Life becomes so overwhelming when one is going to die,

and I am so real and so present that the notion of no longer being real,

no longer being present, is an absurdity beyond the reach of human comprehension.

Once my sentence was read, two guards walked into my cell, handcuffed my wrists,

and gently stood me up, as a parent would a toddler that's learning to walk.

My mother brought me into this world, and these men will have a role just

as transcendental and just as important. They don't hold me,

simply push me softly, guiding me to my final encounter with destiny.

The other prisoners can't gather the courage to look, but they still line up

against their cell doors, making their presences known. For a moment I am

again human. For a moment. 

When we get there it's all bright and colorful. Sunlight has become foreign.

I have personally requested for them not to cover my eyes; another of my 

lingering human desires which was thankfully granted, despite not being decorum.

About five souls stand before me, weapons on hand, ready to unbirth me.

THREE!

It's hard not to close my eyes

TWO!

I will really die

ONE!

This is really the end

FIRE!

This one moment is eternal, the five fire, they all hit. I am aware that

I'm dying, as morbid as that sounds. Slowly, as my lifeless body falls

to the ground, so too does my conscience vanish. It was a life.