Wilford Berry     Wilford Berry wanted to die And fought for the right to do it. He killed a man without batting an eye while he begged on his knees not to shoot him.   Many opined the state should not kill. Others clamored - "It's right, lets do it!" Finally the courts ruled to favor Wil; He chose injection the way to end it.   Betty Montgomery had won the day She pledged her word to Ohio voters. She'd put them to death - She'd make 'em pay! "Bloody Betty" went after death row prisoners.   Behind bars, I watched the media hype - hours on end, every step of the way, morbid recounting the very "last time" his cuffing, his riding, his last meal day.   Eight-thirty that night, they locked us all down; At Nine, Wilford would take his last breath. The t.v's were blaring as I looked around; We're all "doing time" - but none of us death.   You'd think there'd be an objection of sorts; You'd think some regret, some sorrow or prayer; You'd think they'd see him as "one of their own", but the truth is, it seemed that nobody cared.   Nine-thirty and they dubbed Wil historic - The first public murder in thirty - plus years For all the clamor and "save" him rhetoric, A murderers murder brought few tears.   He was not on his knees begging for life. His fellow man killed him - he's just as dead. Between life in a cell - or life taken well, I personally think what Wil chose - the best.   And yet what is that there, deep in my core? My heart gripped, my gut wretched, chill to my bone. Somehow the import of group murder horror - Somewhere my soul cries - in repellant moan.