The Death Sentencing of an Innocent Man
By John Merritt
September 23, 1986, 2 p.m., Columbia Country (Lake City), Florida.
I am 29 years old. Two murderers framed me for their crimes; with the collusion of one corrupt law enforcement officer and his amoral prosecutor cronies. The jury voted for a life sentence, the prosecutors asked for the same. The judge’s words revealed a shocking decision he said, “For your crime of murder in the first degree, it is the sentence of the court that you be committed to the appropriate executive authority of the state of Florida, who shall cause electrical currents to be generated through your body of sufficient force and voltage to cause your immediate death.”
Stunned, I feel and hear klaxon sounding waves of energy, warrnnhh, warrnnhh, warrnnhh, pulsating out of my body and boomeranging back!
My soul astral projects, hovering, noticing, how no one will look at me, as if ashamed of what they are a part of.
I have just been culled from the herd of society, deemed unworthy to exist. I am anathema, disoriented-n-frantic. I am lost in a sea of unremitting waves of emotional turmoil.
“Innocent, innocent, innocent” my essence beseeches the universe, to an ethereal silence.
Senses heightened, cognitive functioning misfiring, rocked by the currents of anger, fear, depression, mortal anguish so intense, I plunge into a mental abyss that verges on the cusp of implosion.
Adrenaline flowing wild, despair bubbling out of pores, I flight to maintain equilibrium.
In the deepest cores of my being, I intimately, spiritually became one with all the condemned innocents throughout earth’s history. Walking their path, I experiences the catastrophic helplessness, hopelessness, and bone-chilling loneliness that cast you into a dimension of agonizing clarity and terror.
Shackled and chained like a wild beast as the sheriff’s car moves down State Road 100, my eyes lock onto a beautiful young blond-haired mother “Daisy dukes” and a tank top, and her adorable baby girl in their front yard. The toddler, her little arms up in the air as she shyly takes baby steps, four of them, then sweetly looks back for her momma’s loving approval… I visually drink in this tender innocence of life, savoring it, fearing it will be my last sigh of such.
Certain I would be unjustly murdered by State acolytes, and sycophants, so horribly alone on an island of misery, in the darkest moments of my existence I forgave, and prayed the words of Jesus spoke from the cross, “God, Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” I hung my head, and cried torrentially.
In the steely fires of adversity, character is forged, and my 27 months on death row made me a determined man who never gives us, no matter what the obstacles are.
It has been a long 39 years, where I began studying law by the light of a 60-watt bulb with a pull string and the light of the portable back-n-white television provided in the “old school” death row cells at Florida State Prison. We burned newspapers at night and hoped the smoke would drive the mosquitoes away. Years later at FSP, I became a certified law clerk. Media indifference and good-hearted people who profess to care about injustice, yet will not help me because I do not fit their agenda have slowed down my ascent to freedom, for decades. Still I persevere with the law and court filings as my weapons to seek justice, and I truly believe legal actions I have in separate courts will see me prevail in these next months or years.
The Warrior
By John Merritt
I have felt aloneness so
Shattering it ripped
My reality into shreds.
Terror so complete it
Left me lost and bound,
To a chasm of misery
Where no comfort could
Be found.
I could only experience
What the innocent who are
Given the ultimate sentence learn,
Powerlessness and despair
So total it scars your soul
With a permanent burn.
Feeling what those who were
Not guilty experienced,
On their march to crucifixion
In ancient times,
Insanity clutching at me
As all normalcy unwinds.
Fighting through decades
Of adversity and legal battles,
My character became a forged steel.
Never giving up, the
Freedom quest is within sight,
Only because of unrelenting will.
The Execution
By John Merritt
In the death chamber
Sits an oak chair,
Built by prisoner for extra
Sandwiches, an apple and a pear.
Behind a dark curtain a grim reaper lies hidden
Who gets paid $150.00 to throw the switch,
Citizens apply for the honor,
Ain’t that a bitch!
The condemned man wears a
Diaper over his trembling ass,
Leader of the ski-mask gang,
He met his fate with no class!
His final words are accusing the
Governor of using the death penalty
For political gain,
The imbecile had no empathy
For his many victims loved one’s pain.
A poster child for why the
Death penalty exists,
In his final throes he contorts,
Screams, writhes, and twists.
His head catches fire,
Flames shoot out from his fingertips,
The witnesses smile as he does expire.
The demons take this
Unrepentant savage to hell,
As his soul lets out an
Eternally haunted yell.
- The leader of the ski-mask gang was executed in 1986 in Florida. He was unrepentant; and did blame the governor of using the death penalty for political gain. 1-19-2026
The Cause
By John Merritt
The darkness of the jungle
Surrounded them like
A vampire’s cloak,
eerily voices screeching,
Blowing fire and smoke.
Fervent prayers mumbled,
Soon their worlds will be crumbled.
Savages greet them with smiles bright;
Fangs glistening at this exotic sight.
Ivory flesh with Bibles in hand,
They daringly venture into this primitive land.
Coming in the name of the Lord,
They each should have brought a sword.
Lopping off the top of the
Preachers’ skull with a machete,
Tribal members ate his brains like spaghetti.
Stripped naked and tied to crosses,
Nipples, vaginal lips, penises and balls
Were the first of their fleshly losses.
Each villager cut off their share,
Eating the meat raw; setting aside the hair.
Eaten alive for their cause,
Watching from above,
The missionaries’ fates even
Gave the angels pause.
- Based on a true event in the Congo in the 60’s, 70’s era.
Seasons
By John Merritt
Summer/Autumn woman,
As you know,
Prison got a chunk out of me.
However, I am young again
When I look into your eyes.
Take my hand, my dear,
Let me love you for eternity.
The fires burn bright inside,
And Lord only knows
I am full of manly pride.
Rough to look at,
Built like a warrior,
With a lovin’ heart
That sets me apart.
Ohhh, Summer/Autumn woman,
Come into the arms of this September man,
With sensual romance as the mutual plan.
Summer/Autumn woman,
You mesmerize this September man.
Come with me,
Embrace our reality,
Heart to heart, soul to soul,
As one we become whole.
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