Broken rhymes, words absolved,
a candle-lit rose wilting within these grey walls,
where cold steel and thoughts unspoken
try to sound but broken, in time’s bitter resolve.
I sit on stone, cold and so uncompromising,
while a ray of light up high in barred relief,
squeezes through so slightly,
as a faded mist within dark airless despair.
Rusting chains and desperation
cling to tongues of dried anticipation,
and sweat enacts precipitation,
in this lifeless cell of damp chilled plight.
A dungeon fair, a blinded care in harsh reproach,
this incarceration so void of any consolation,
just awaiting a demise so slowly given,
a slide into pointless thought and breath.
Thoughts uncalled, wander like buzzards circling,
trying to eke out an existence,
keep that brain alive from falling out of stride,
lost to the dark emptiness of isolation.
But what thoughts can uplift in this emaciation,
memories just a heart-weighted loss,
and reality tethered to steel and fateful pain
is the same however one looks.
Past painted black, future a light-less demise,
hope long gone on a road to nowhere,
and heart attests a meek connection,
as skin limp across the bones of death.
Only in dreams can I see the sky,
a blue so fine and clouds astride
like blooms burgeoning,
and a sun of warmth, a well being so sought, but lost.
The will of power had me cower,
agree to disagree and a fated plea fell on such deaf ears,
and now, family gone, children gone,
and me, just holding on to breath.
Its just the tide of injustice, what powerful men wield,
and men as I yield to their wants,
life so cheap, cast aside without consideration,
as I languish in a life so not meant for this.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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