Midnight Vision: Slaves Of Eternity Poem by Jon Alan

In the boiler rooms they shovel,
eternally.
Their sweat oozes on the floor
and their muscles glisten in the
yellow mist of the fire.

I have seen them in my midnight visions
I have cried out in their agony
and they would just look up
disturbed by the intruder reading their thoughts.
Back to their coal, 'Leave us, '
I could hear them plead.
But it was hard for me to leave
I loved their agony,
I needed their strength.