The Building With Rust-Red Resistane
White windows of painted boards,
and an exterior of rust-red resistance.
What infinite hallways dwell behind your doors?
An army of cream-clad patients,
sunken cheeks and hollowed eyes,
these are the images that come to mind,
and I feel the tension of the smoldering gaze
of the building with rust-red resistance.
A hand with no strength within,
fingers white as cod, and I ask,
“to whom is it kin?”
the building with rust-red resistance.
Like walking without meaning,
in a nightmare of frustration,
the people of the rust-red house share
no sunlight with the rest of Creation.
They, behind white windows of painted boards,
are alone in their elation.
For even while the day unfolds,
the rust-red house is theirs alone, no invasion.
The rust-red house is theirs alone, no invasion.
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