I stand accused before you.

I have no tears to cry.

And you will never break me

until the day I die.

I knew Dallas Winston was bad. But not this bad. This was the final straw. The end of the line. He was being charged with murder and, unlike his other trials, there was no way out. But he seemed content up there, in front of a judge and jury. Not the slightest look of intimidation was on his handsome face. Knowing him, he wasn't even regretting killing that soc. He was simply accepting his fate.

A criminal mind

is all I've ever known.

They try to reform me

but I'm made of cold stone.

My criminal mind

is all I've ever had.

Ask one who's known me if I'm really so bad.

I am.

Dallas Winston was a hood and no matter what, he always would be. No girl or friend of his could change that. He had a criminal mind. He didn't think like most, he thought like a scandal. There was no use, those holy rollers trying to change him, trying to make him something he's not. They wanted him to feel remorse for the life he had so viciously taken. But Dallas was never sorry. Ever.

I've spent my life behind these steel bars.

I've paid my debt in time.

But being brought to justice,

that was my only crime.

If you're thinking Dallas was an ignorant hood who squandered life away then you'd be correct. But if you were to say that he got everything the easy way, then you'd be dead wrong. His life was no walk in the part. Everything he obtained, he owned rightfully. But every consequence he received was most definitely deserved.

Before you hand me over,

Before you read my sentence,

I'd like to say a few words, here in my own defence.

Some people struggle daily.

They struggle with their conscience till the end.

I have no guilt to haunt me.

I feel no wrong intent.

"Sentenced to death." were the overbearing words that came down upon his shoulders. Death. Dallas was finally getting what he deserved. Did he holler his innocence? Did he object to his sentence? Did he plead for mercy and ask for forgiveness? No. He simply smirked and managed a thank you. If they were looking for repentance, they were not going to find it. Not in Dallas Winston. He had his ways. Nothing promised, no regrets.

I don't regret a single action.

I'd do the same again.

These prison wall secure me,

and I'm numb to pain.

As Dallas was lead away to his death bed, I caught a glimpse of his sinister face. There was no fear, there was no remorse, there was no distress. A look of acceptance and smugness was in its place. The doors swung closed behind him. No one would ever see face of Dallas Winston ever again. Death awaited him. It was set in stone. But he wouldn't have it any other way. He died for what he believed in. His criminal mind.