"After a Thousand Winters Pass"

A million and one voices
shriek
within the walls
of opposition
In an atmospheric old house
where torture and tauntings
Lay hidden
Light barely pierces
through misty windows
Birds mourn
unable to offer their wings
Of freedom

Imprints of a life drenched
in apathy
Splattered on hard-edged canvas
dripping on splintered floors
not much left inside
to generate warmth
or compassion
Who is he that cannot feel
another's pain
Nor perceive tears
falling from a petrified face

He stands vigil
with another’s blood resting
In his own hands
with sightless eyes
and an unfeeling heart
As if another’s life matters not
inhabitant of his kingdom
Throwing stones
Disassembling the innocent
satin grain
that once crossed above
all obstacles

Ancient walls will reveal
The truth
after he buries her soul
And a thousand winters
pass