Prison

Criminals and victims
Were lined up in their tombs
All curled up and crying
Like infants in our wombs.
Our shadows tumbled from the stars
Upon the dungeon floor
Oblique and crooked silhouettes
Of our truest form.
Our home was made of rust and glass
Our carpets laid like stone
With iron bars for curtain rods
And flesh that felt like bone.
Our bedside lamps extinguished hope
Yet shone their bright black light
That lit the locks upon the doors
All the endless night.
And here and there we counted on
(while paying back our debts)
The diabolic little bricks
That lined our oubliettes.
And then a dove, it came to me
Guided through the air
It fluttered through the stones and bars
As if they were not there.
It came just like a summer's day
Upon a summer's breeze
With feathers whiter than the snow
From gardens emerald green.
She wore upon her little head
A little laurel crown
And settled in my corporal cell
Without so much a sound.
She stayed a while to comfort me
And then she took a hair
She plucked it clean from off my head
And flew I knew not where.
Tell me why she came to me
Tell me why she stayed
Tell me why she plucked a hair
And then just flew away.
I pray that I may know one day
A day when Kingdom come
A day I might return again
Unto my Heavenly home.