Monday, April 2, 2012

Voices


Voices,

shrill, desperate and frightened,

accumulate in layers

across the courtyard

and force their way in

through windows and open doors.

They bounce along corridors of marble

and echo blurringly from stone tiles

and vaulted ceilings,

to disturb the earnest enquiries

of the Roman administrator

as he presses the prisoner

for an answer he can use.

The man refuses to be constrained by his bonds

and speaks calmly of truth,

too easily it seems to his interrogator,

who demands a definition

for the well worn word..

The man accused of kingly conspiracy

remains silent, knowing that his truth

is difficult to hear.

It is a place where evil and cruelty

meet their limits;

where death is no longer feared,

and where hope,

no matter how low its wick burns,

will never be extinguished.

This disturbing truth will be reached

through a mix of painful love,

generous suffering, and much bleeding;

little wonder his clamouring protagonists

find it so unpalatable.

In the end

the Governor finds it all too difficult

and surrenders the man

to the voices.


© 2012 Ken Rookes

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