A mortared prison, stained per my array,
No windows there may peer or look ahead,
All panes made blank by muted memory,
And as such seals may set, no visions thread
Until these walls transfix with warmer use:
Bright daylight razing all to show my Muse.
In barren corridors, I cannot test,
For open eyes, the light, can't bear to see;
The night, much more than day, does spend my rest,
So cold and silence tower over me.
Too soon, untrammeled Love was for the sky,
So firm, these walls cemented: Never I.
-February 21,2006
Strong and disturbing. The imprisoned soul can be darker than actual prison walls. Time brings light, eventually, that the eyes can bear. If there is time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In barren corridors, I cannot test, For open eyes, the light, can't bear to see The night, much more than day, does spend my rest, The sheild of power