Hermit Kingdom
They sit on their own
in their Hermit Kingdom
other side of the wall
singing their song
entitled
nothing to envy
peeling the skin
away in generations
it's worse than a famine
where colour
is wrung
from the inside out
emotive feelings
are not allowed
let the sentiments fester
like poetry inside tears
that go nowhere
when organs fall out
and the keys
like musical notes
are torn, what existed
before, without fail
inappropriately
disappears
visually it is worse
like Romans struck down
love is forbidden
love is a drought
haiku like bitter onions
raw for the eating
all hidden,
within and without
verses memorised
like code, passed
on in the whispers
from parent
to child
with warnings
to watch out
not to become lost
in translation, or shared
with the outside others
even the birds
and the mice
are not to be trusted
no one knows
who is watching you
the word for friendship
is banished, comradship
is much safer,
less individualistic
the collective coached
to travel in class
weekly to repent sins
through the unbridled
criticism and alleged petty
wrong doings of others,
the denouncement
of mothers and fathers,
sisters and brothers,
each now taught
to habitually turn
against the other
you cannot start
a revolution
where there exists
no loyalty
no trust in love
one for the other
the informative
instruction
commences at 5,
the beatings at 2,
each has their
allotted task
spreading seeds
for the unit,
growth planted
by and in
the smallest doses,
commences early
for the large,
now all drugged
in descension
true hearted
music
for what it is worth
is not permitted, the
abolition of joy
dead and buried
swallowed like rocks
all impoverished
eating things
one should never
dare eat,
the passing of such,
an unholy union
unwanted fools
sitting uneducated
then harnassed standing
on stools for the kicking
dead and buried
the walking dead look on
the dreams of ghouls
life taking and giving
the child remembers
a woman with no eyes
a dead feast
for smaller things
that live and
hide in the dark
recesses
of a reader’s mind
children watch on
the youngest reserved
front row for viewing
the neverending unswaying
executions, no ordinary guns,
blown apart the meat left
then fed to the dogs
such dysfunction
now in each unit
within unit
in familial grooming
traumatised
it’s dog eat dog
the dog is eventually eaten
Escape arrives
like moths
viewing lights
across the borderline walls
like margins paralysed
deers caught in the headlights
fed with fear, bloated
floating down the
proverbial river
A mother
would do anything
for her child
she takes the fall
and the other is
double-tricked,
yet the child
makes it over the wall
the mother
follows
she learns how
to crawl
A child
would do anything
for her mother
selling the other
for a better life
food in the belly
they meet again
much later, unknown
each to the other, still
some trust, hand in hand
they walk the Gobi together
in the dead of Winter
missionaries
and their ramblings
one side nearly as bad
as the other
passing a book
the verses like a test
it's all covert,
never judge a book
by its cover
what was covetted
now smothers
freedom
is choice
but it is never free,
still, where there is hope
some form of life still exists
the dreams of good eggs
in their better nests
remains in minds still alive
transfixed
They sit on their own
in their Hermit Kingdom
other side of the wall
singing their song
entitled
nothing to envy
The tour group
goes to a level
they were told
to resist;
22, now he’s lost
in the poisonous
culpable party line mess;
“what no illustrations?
No music?” he says,
“I’ll leave that to your
imagination. To reflect on.” she says
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Copyright © Lady Labyrinth | Year Posted 2023
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