The empty chair

The sky was dark, so was the room,
There sat a man in despair and gloom
He was counting seconds which were long.

His chair was broken so he had to balance his weight. Happiness had died. The sound of a running tap was bothering enough. He couldn't hear it but while writing I could. I sat there watching his stillness. He didn't tremble. I wished to see him move. His eyes were moving but meeting no one else's eyes. His throat was moving but there was no voice. No one came to get him for some time. His heart was beating. I could sense it. The wait is the hardest. It's not the physical pain that made him numb. It was the end of his existence. The priest came to him and started chanting. He was not listening. No one was listening. Finally they came and took him. He struggled a little,  little more, more. Every one was watching his desparation. I shifted my eyes to the empty chair. I sensed the death through that empty chair. I kept looking at the chair. I could feel the tension shift from him to the chair.
After two minutes people started murmering. One more convict came with the gaurds. He sat one the empty chair. He looked through the window at the ground.I looked out too.
The sky was dark, so was the room,
There sat a man in despair and gloom
He was counting seconds which were long.