black grey walls
made of fear and pain
this dreary fortress’ name
is heart
surrounded by wasteland
silent and cold
the bird keeps mute
and unheard the lament
the lament of a soul
in a pitch-dark tomb
the song of despair …

deep down in the dungeon
so safe, so wan
so lonesome, so fearsome
so small and so hard
a spiky bullet
protective and tight
yet bound to die
if left on its own

behind the spikes
beneath the shell of steel
there’s a universe of colours
awaiting release
a cosmos of sounds
an orchestra, a volcano
all the world’s beauty
love like a hurricane
all power needed
to do the impossible
and break up the armour
and to rest not before
the walls do unclench
and the bird sings again
pluming its feathers
then soaring up high …

still they lie lifeless
fortress and land
wary arrogance rules with
gruesome iron hand

deep down in the dungeon
life fades away
screams make the walls
tremor and ring
each sound a promise of light
the lament dies down

yet hope does not

© Anna Kühne