As the sun goes down and the land grows dark, the moon comes up to greet the woeful peasants, widows, and widowers. As the rich are filling up their stomachs with a feast of a thousand men, the peasants are full on scraps from the rich folk’s meal. While the criminals live on, the innocent are executed for nothing. While the rich have fairy tale dreams of fairies, unicorns, and three wishes, the poor dream of a slice of bread. And as I lay dying in the torture chamber, the true criminal is out there prospering on my loss, my prosecution, and my death. He is a dark man, with a heart of black to let me sit here being eaten alive by the natural inhabitants of a dark, dank cell. This story of melancholy has been woven from the finest threads of hatred so that people out there who are wrongly accused of crime can have consolation in knowing that they are not alone. This is a story of the evil men do, unfairness, ignorance, and justice. This is a story of life.