indirect early morning sunrise filters in dirty gray

droning cadence of horse's hoof beats on cobblestone

fish mongers crying out the freshness of their ware

soldiers marching commands echo off Citadel Hill Fort

a stench of decay, raw sewage and brine in the air

ten penny nails pound into rough green spruce board

fresh hemp rope tied with exactly thirteen loops

prreacher man says he is the key to my salvation

executioner hides behind his hood and laughs

knowing he'll get his farthing, six pence either way

cold frost rims the granite of my prison walls

my back aches from lying on this wooden slab

filling the cavitiy of memories of those before

aye, but my heart and soul cannot be contained

through the rusted bars of my prison they soar

to alit in the warm bosum of your sweet love

thoughts of lips kissing mine one last time

that last night we made love in the Govenor's garden

touching the stars with each breathe we shared

that scene will be my final mute euology of love

no tears will fall on judgement day for cleansing

nor will a mother or father claim my body to bury

nay they will commit my bones to an unmarked grave

with nary a headstone or a lovers grievious sigh

my only çrime was the sin of loving the wife of another

so the Lords of this harsh land my life will end...