Beneath the shadow of a doubt he stands,
A man accused, with clean but cuffed hands.
Innocence his shield, truth his only sword,
Against a fate unjustly, harshly scored.
No bars of steel can cage his spirit free,
No walls too high to hold what cannot be.
He stares into the void, death’s cold, bleak eye,
Unflinching, unyielding, under the sky.
“For if they come,” he whispers to the night,
“To cage my soul, to quench my inner light,
Know this,” he vows, “I’ll not go alone,
Six will bear me before twelve cast the stone.”
Incarcerated for a crime not his,
A testament to justice gone amiss.
Yet in his heart, a fire fiercely burns,
For freedom’s song, for home, he yearns.
He’ll not be bound by chains, nor fate’s cruel jest,
Within his chest beats the heart of protest.
“Better to lie in earth, in peaceful rest,
Than live in shame, an innocent man pressed.”
So hear the tale of a man, bold and brave,
Who’d rather fill a free man’s grave,
Than live a lie, in shadows just survive,
He stands for truth, for that, he’d give his life.
Let this be heard, let it echo, let it ring,
Of a man who wouldn’t bow to wrongful thing.
In his story, a lesson we all find,
The strength of will, the power of the mind.
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