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ECHOES OF THE FINAL HOUR

A song about Death Penalty ... Echoes of the Final Hour In the shadow of a cold stone wall, a man sits alone, his hands trembling, his eyes hollowed out by fear. The clock ticks louder than his heartbeat, each second a cruel reminder that his life is slipping away, stolen by a system that calls itself justice. His mother’s wails echo in his mind, her voice breaking like fragile glass, pleading for mercy that will never come. Oh, the weight of this sorrow drowns the air, a soul condemned to vanish, leaving nothing but tears. The gavel falls, a thunderous scream, shattering dreams, snuffing out hope in a world too blind to see the pain it breeds. A child waits beyond the bars, tiny fingers clutching a faded photograph, not understanding why their father must fade into the dark. The executioner stands tall, his face carved from stone, unmoved by the rivers of grief spilling from those who loved this broken man. Outside, the sky weeps, heavy with despair, as if the heavens themselves mourn the blood staining the earth below. Oh, the weight of this sorrow drowns the air, a soul condemned to vanish, leaving nothing but tears. The gavel falls, a thunderous scream, shattering dreams, snuffing out hope in a world too blind to see the pain it breeds. What is justice when it carves out hearts, when it silences laughter, when it buries love beneath a shroud of vengeance? The needle pierces, the breath fades, and a light flickers out, leaving behind a void that screams louder than any crime ever could. Who are we to play gods, to decide which lives crumble, which stories end in a flood of endless agony? The room grows still, the silence deafening, a mother collapses, her soul torn apart, a child stares into nothingness, lost forever. The death penalty claims another, not just the one who dies, but all who loved them, sentenced to a lifetime of anguish, drowning in the unbearable ache of goodbye.