- A voice from the past speaks of freedom -

For speaking
the wrong words,
those that echo
the unwanted truth,
they pushed me far away,
until the edge of the world.

In a barge of solitude,
I came to this tower.
Tell me, what are hours
under the rain, on the river,
after the hard journey of a lifetime?

It seems that I became their prisoner,
who now writes graffiti on the wall,
ready to go through this man-made hell,
locked up, yet free at last.

The damp walls around me -
infested -
and their heavy steps in the spiral staircase
are not fearsome, after all.

Should I be frightened
of standing here alone,
when I'm surrounded
by a slowly sinking world?

Life is not addictive
for those free at heart
and the only assistance I require,
is to be one with my peaceful mind.

I've wiped away the notion of time
and given up this broken body.

Today, they come equipped
with breast-rippers, headcrushers,
tongue slicers and cat's paws.
Tomorrow, they'll find
cleaner tools and torture beyond suspicion.

Let me tell you from this tower of pain,
that their methods will change,
but the bigot followers' aim
will always be to make us crawl
then leave us
harmless, as dead, on the floor.