A captive, his thoughts
like a prisoner, inside the
Numbered cell,
Sheltered, locked up like
a dog in this man made hell;
His days are being counted;
Sentenced to death;
Will you come, flying?
After breaking through  
the dark clouded sky
on a black horse back;
to embrace me within this
few seconds, prior to my
Execution early morning!
My body is ready to depart;
Soon, take me away, my dear!


BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI