The Final Sunrise: 1900 Death Row POV

The morning light is cold, and I am shaking uncontrollably as I wake up

for the last time. The meat tastes like ash in my mouth,

yet I try to swallow through the heavy, gasping sobs. I look down

at these chains and realize my time has finally run out in this dark place.

Every step down this hallway feels like a mile, my breath catching in my throat

as I cry. There it is, the wooden throne of my ending, waiting for me

in the center of the room. The leather bites into my skin, and all I

can do is weep for the life I am leaving.