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by V. Blake

a latticework of suffering
was stripped of name and consequence
and locked in a room to be forgotten.
its architects and chaperones
danced along the borders of the cell
blissful and deaf
to the wailing at its heart.

pale and filthy shadows remain,
arm-in-arm and shoulder-to-shoulder.
still doing what can be done
to buffer shouts before they can echo.
all that cannot be silenced
is equivocated;
what's left is stifled
by awareness.


Author's Note: https://bailproject.org

Posted on 06/05/2020
Copyright © 2020 V. Blake

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 06/10/20 at 05:04 AM

Very dark, Vince. You've created great tension in this one, the border adds to the prison-like atmosphere of the mind/minds.

Posted by Laura Doom on 07/17/20 at 11:06 PM

Pale and filthy shadows. That is a microcosm that can't be escaped. Stark and effective formatting - mirrors the link in your note. We could wish that these poems someday won' need to be written, but I guess that will never happen. With that provise, I appreciate this one.

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