Micheal McConnell

Justice?

Icy cold blood courses through my veins

like a ship on the River Styx,

and Death is the helmsman.

Through the one way

mirror, I feel the blank pathetic stares of the onlookers,

longing to watch a killer fry.

Passing judgment on what they’ll never understand.

The executioner flips the switch. 2000 volts tear

through my body, and my spine stiffens

like a cold steel rod.

Yet through the pain I pray.

I pray I'll go to Hell,

so I can find the man who killed my family

and hack him into a hundred more pieces.