Hello. My name is Greg. I have a lot of time to think. Too much time. Sometimes I think about my life - why I am sitting in prison. I wonder what I could have done different - my life plays before my eyes. "If only..." But even I know that no amount of good works would have stopped tyranny from finding fault with me. It is cold. My clothes are thin. My stomach is empty - occasionally filled with food of no sustenance. I hide my face in my knees - as if that will somehow protect me from the horrors of this dark cold dungeon. They keep it cold to freeze me, this I know. It is a part of their game - to drive a lesson into me. As if I have a lesson to learn solely because I was convicted. Convicted, but not guilty. Years. 68 years for standing against injustice. How many years have I sat in here? I have forgot. All I know is this question, "Was I fated for this? Did God g...