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All that has happened has truly been a fool’s errors. And you must all think what is it to take a man’s life. To rob him of his breath, to extinguish the fire of his passions, to destroy the spirit that is like yours. Time marches inexplicably on and thus we proceed, not looking back but forward, amending regrets with hope and cheer. But if we do not regret, if we stand upon the altar of Providence and feel sorrow for nothing, we are truly sinful, decayed in our hubris. Vainglorious mortals puffing up chests and passing judgement on others without the infinite wisdom to divine truth in punishment. Here lies our arms, here beckons our open hearts beating with the lifeblood of the whole of humanity, here resides the weakened soul fearing banishment.

No, I ask not for reversals of judgements, nor acceptance of my crimes of passion, the thing I seek is understanding. We are taught that to understand is to love, to love is the gift of god, to practice this gift is the ultimate of man’s powers. To know my acts but not know the desire behind it, that is a joke. We have all been at that low point, a degree of difference is present for sure, you gentlemen must understand the nature of man and his ills, the spiraling madness that progresses to the final action, crime be it any other name. Not one action though, no it is a series of flaws and bad decisions culminating in what is in front of you here. I have not started as a criminal, none of us has. Do I blame circumstances of birth? Poverty, poor education, broken family? Do I rap against the society that bred me and clothed me in a twisted philosophy? Surely these things play a part, surely sin does not come from without or within entirely. I end my life taking blame but in equal measure. If conditions were different perhaps I would not be where I am. Perhaps I should have spent more time making those past decisions instead of thinking of the now. I sought pleasure and it caught up with me.

Yet must I go to the graveyard for transgressions. Disappear into the mist of oblivion never to repent in heartfelt contrition. This bleakness is too much, the nerves cannot take the slow creep of death from your tribunals. I see my own end, I perceive the decades of cherished family and friends, living moments before my heavy eyes transpire, so much lived yet so much left to go. Is a broken man not to be mended? I had only just learned to be the kind uncle to my nieces and nephews, for them I committed the act. Their bright little faces glow so sweetly to me now, I look upon this holy order but see only sweet cherubs asking for kisses and Turkish Delight. Oh if only we adults could feel an ounce of the joy they feel with the simplest of pleasures. We are jaded and cynical, morose and quelled by life’s harshness. I was beaten down again and again but with them I regained strength, with them I thought I could be better, turn a new leaf, indeed I may have done just that soon enough. But now… Now I am tied to the gallows with nothing but bitter wishes. So have at me, satisfy your bloodlust and pat yourselves on the back for your saintly deeds. You men of honor.

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