Justice (The Testament)
You took my pulse, understood that I am dead,
Take time to weep, remove the rope that's on my neck.
This ink is my blood, my forearms' cuts will testify,
I left a razor with fingerprints of my suicide.
Influence contrived to take my power and my stance,
Money and corruption gave to criminals more strength.
Trivial and biased was the truth in my court;
Proven guilty with slanders of all sorts.
Left in this cell famished like a convict,