The Towers Poem by Sean Green

The towers are centuries tall
built by hand, block by block
perch on the cliffs equally deep
ready for wayward miscreants

more than souls are there enclosed
also power sits on the throne
ruling masses with a hand
ready with the whip to lash

this status-quo is nearly spent
when multitudes leap to deaths
leaving for the netherrealms
away from dogma's weary quest

holding supplicants in crumbling cells
with doors wide open to prisoners
those who seek to escape
will leave the towers in their wake.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20200108.