when you said you wouldn't.
Your walk got slower,
bandy and small.
You cover your face
and hold on to walls
hiding your secrets
from the starving cameras.
It's so quiet inside
but the body needs music
and the louder their halls
the less place for dance.
They must not notice
how you've kept your playlist
they must not see
you know the songs by heart.
They cannot see it.
Just one more day
and you'll put your belt on
and run through locked doors
without saying goodbye.
Oh how sweet melody
is the one that follows
those who have faith
to leave the army behind.
Don't turn back,
Orpheus wasn't wise.
Oblivion conquers soon
the pile of spoons and knives.
Tomorrow's rain will wash away
leftovers from the ground
and they will never see it
they could never concieve it.
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| ph. by Tilemahos Efthimiadis, Greek sculpture from 4th c. B.C. |
