Death Row

You always hear people talking about walking the walk of life, but you rarely hear about walking the walk of death.
Walking from Death Row, down the corridor shackled by your hands and feet, prison guards on both sides, approaching the iron door where within lie the impliments of death that will end your miserable life.
Death Row is a place of hell on earth, solitary confinment for months, years on end, with only your thoughts for company, many go mad.
And all you can do is wait.
How can it be a kindness, allowing you to choose your last meal on earth? Do they really think you can enjoy it? knowing you are only hours away from your own execution?
The food turns to ash in your mouth, somehow sticking in your throat. You can't enjoy your last meal on earth, not armed with the knowledge of your iminent death.
And then you at last walking the walk of death, with no hope, no-one to turn to.
Let me tell you, there are no heroric last thoughts, no deep and meaningfull last words, just a terrible mantra in your head 'if only if only'...your heart is pounding in your ears and all you can feel is sheer raw panic.

Go into Death Row, walk the walk of death, those fatal last steps that you know will be your last.

Then look me in the eye and tell me that this is justice.