His Last Wish

Stark darkness engulfs him here,
Three bare walls and barred view.
A stony floor, like a piercing spear
And a tattered mat lying askew.
Twice a day the bars give way,
Measly morsels enter his den.
Twice a day he kneels to pray,
His pulse flutters, his eyes open.
A hidden hole in the roof of his cell
Lets in the sunlight on the sly.
The pale moonlight creeps in as well
As the hours go crawling by.
And then unbidden comes the haze,
The moonlight and that haunting wait;
A vision of his mindless chase,
Fuelled by mere doctored hate.
But for a tiny soul crying in grief,
His eyes met his and held him there.
A split second that shook his belief,
A split second,he was caught unaware.

Now he lay under the moonlight again,
To wait, to pray, to pay for his deed.
Yet he wondered if his penitent pain,
Would heal so many hearts that bleed.
He wondered if they would ever write,
An obituary for tainted souls like his;
But perhaps someone would get it right,
And tell them about his last wish.

They would write of his life of sin and doubt ,
Where love and reason could wait,
A moment of compassion turned him about,
But by then it was too late.
He wished for none to follow,
He wished for none to go astray,
He wished not a world of sorrow,
He wished for a bright new day.

He wished for these last thoughts as well,
For his obituary to truly convey,
But here he was in his tiny cell,
There was nothing he could do or say
So even as his end painfully neared,
Even as the noose coiled around,
For those who followed him he feared,
Prayed for the redemption he had never found.

P.S : Better late than never