The Execution
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            He sat in his cell waiting for daybreak but hoping it would never come. His thoughts, they were a million miles away, straying to another place, to that place where he was happy, in what now just seemed so much like a different world far, far from here. He closed his eyes and in a moment he was transported through the expanse of time and space to that place where his heart seemed to dwell, where terror and sorrow no longer gripped his being. He closed his eyes and conjured the image of that beach; in his memories he could almost feel the soft breeze against his cheek, he could see her smile, he could feel her touch, and he wished that moment could last forever.
            He jumped to a start to the sound of the boots marching down the corridor outside the door. His heart sped up for a moment and then almost ceased to a halt, and for a moment he wished he would die before they got there so he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He heard the keys enter the cell door and he knew the hour was upon him. He looked up as the door swung up to the faces of the guards coming into his cell and it struck him how similar they looked, how similar they all looked from the moment of his arrest, through the beatings, through it all. They stood at the opening waiting for him.
            He felt his legs begin to tremble beneath him as he tried to stand; he wanted to be strong for this moment and he replayed the scene in his head over and over. Yet now, now that the moment was upon him he felt the strength drain from him, he felt the hot sting of his tears betray his emotions. He tried to stand up but even as he did he felt the shaking of his arms and as he pushed himself up he fell to the ground, too paralyzed to carry his own weight. He began to sob uncontrollably, being robbed of the dignity to die with even a shred of pride.
            With anger the guards came and kicked him and yelled for him to get up. He couldn’t hear them except in the distance, no matter how hard they yelled; it almost seemed surreal as if his soul had already left his body and was hearing but an echo of the voices from another world, another plane of existence. The rest was but a blur to him as they picked him up by his arm and began to drag him from his cell.
            As they dragged him down the cold hallway his knees scraped across every bump on the floor. His sobs echoed through the hall as if for the world to hear him being robbed of his manhood, of his dignity before he was robbed of his life. A thousand thoughts ran through his head, how he was leaving his child fatherless, his wife a widow. He wondered why this was happening to him; there were thousands, if not millions worse then him who were let to live despite their transgressions, and here he was being dragged to his death with the world looking on to his last moments of shame.
            And yet in the background he started to hear something from far off, as if the sound of hands clapping against the metal doors of their cells chaotically, yet in a moment the chaos began to fall into a deep sense of rhythm as he heard voices, slowly, one by one, off in the distance joining together as if in song. It came as a whisper into his mind and at first he could not hear the words, just the lowly tune of the hymn but before long he could begin to hear their voices, as if his spirit was returning to his body for but a short time...
            “….O blessed voice of Jesus, / which comes to hearts opprest! / It tells of benediction, /Of pardon, grace, and peace, / Of joy that hath no ending, / Of love which cannot cease…”
            He could still not find the strength to stand and yet his tears of sorrow began to subside as he listened to the voices and remembered he was not alone. He still felt the sorrow in his heart, the pain of his life, but he felt new tears stream down his cheeks and though he could not explain it, he knew they were bringing a washing flood of peace in his fate.
            “Come unto Me, ye wanderers; / And I will give you light. / O loving voice of Jesus, / Which comes to cheer the night! / Our hearts were filled with sadness, / And we had lost our way; / But Thou hast brought us gladness/ And songs at break of day…”
            One guard yelled for the prisoners to shut up, as he banged against one of the doors with his stick and yet he could not silence the singing, he could not silence the singing. As they dragged him to the door, the guard grew more and more frustrated and he dropped the prisoner; with a swift motion of his club he hit him full swing in the back. The prisoner slumped slightly at the weight, at the pain being inflicted, and he knew there was nothing to save him anymore except death. He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from crying out in his anger and his pain.
            The voices didn’t stop, as if to tell him Courage my brother, you do not walk alone, we are with you now, we stand with you, we walk with you.
            “Come unto me, ye fainting, / and I will give you life. / O cheering voice of Jesus, / Which comes to aid our strife! / The Foe is stern and eager, / the fight is fierce and long; / But Thou hast made us mighty/ and stronger than the strong? ”
            They carried him to the courtyard outside, dragging him onto the platform where the rope hung and threw his crumbled body down. They tied his hands behind him, fumbling slightly from his trembling hands. He could hear the voices still singing, as if to forever symbolize the fellowship of mankind, their unity in spirit and that there is strength in it to carry each of them from this world to the next. They held him up as they put the rope around his neck and then let him hang down still with no strength in his legs. The sun beat down on him and he could feel its heat and even through that he felt cold, and he knew now that nothing in this world would warm him again.
            The trap door swung open and he fell, the last thing he heard was the distant echo of his brothers as they sang his spirit home:
            “And whosoever cometh,/ I will not cast him out./ O patient love of Jesus,/ Which drives away our doubt,/ Which, though we be unworthy/ Of love so great and free,/ Invites us very sinners/ To come, dear Lord, to Thee…”