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
what's left is stifled
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.