Death! A horrible, terrible part of life that I as a young man had been foolish and arrogant enough to believe would never come to me. But now it is so close I can feel it-smell it-taste it! My lips cracked and dry from the dungeon; they were only feeding me small pieces of bread and trace amounts of water—nothing anybody as weak as I was before I was captured could live on for very long.
However, food was not what mattered and not what I needed; what I needed was music. Oh, sweet music, the unearthly beauty of harps and lutes and flutes playing together in harmony, thus without this I was weakened and like some kind of terrible drug of some sort I was experiencing pain—no, sickness—no, withdrawal even! Not even the music constantly playing inside my head like some kind of echo recording could keep me from this cruelness.
But I must explain: It was in every way my fault I came to this terrible conclusion; I had committed the crime, I had done the wrong, I had forfeited my very own life for my own foolish, selfish cause. Oh and what wrong! To murder a man is one of the most difficult things to do unless your mind is so crazed and ill you cannot even tell what you are doing. Even if God commands you to kill, it still feels cruel. But once I had done this deed I became delusional, I began to have hallucinations of the most frightful sort. Blood on my hands, on the walls of this cell even... I could see it...
And for what a strange and most ill-advised mission I had been on; to kill a friend. A friend! Jealousy! The destroyer of men, that and greed are top, linked together by a strange bond! Power corrupts and I had much to much, I felt I could do anything in the world. My friend grew afraid, afraid of what I, most rich of rich, most powerful of powers could do to him on a whim. He left and I could do nothing about it; him mocking me, mocking my lifestyle, me of all people! with the most luxurious life in France! And I grew arrogant scorning him while not realizing that I was living a most unhappy life in this palace and I was envious of his simple, carefree life. And so I took his life! With my own hands!
But no-one is free from the law. I never did think of disposing the body, hiding my deed and they easily traced the source to me. And here I am, being forced to spend eternity in this miserable rat-hole with nothing beautiful to taint my ears.