The Terror Through The Wall Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

While children die of thirst
And dry, distinguished Morris Minors
Dream of silence,
My memory explodes
With a vision of you crying in the rain,
Your grievous bodily charm
Lost in the temples of Java.
You're not the first
To salvage swords from the graveyards of the poor
Or risk your life for eunuchs in the fine cathedrals,
There were others who went before you
Fearing the worst,
Tossing their caution to the wind
And burying their courage
In the dark heart of creative reason.