The High Walls
built walls so high and magnificent this time,
neither the Greeks nor the Romans can plunder.
creating an illusion of protecting valuables,
neither the British nor the Germans can peek.
All that is guarding are broken bones, ash and dust.
The inside glazed by the glasses reflecting the truth,
mazes more elaborate than the labyrinth,
no doors or windows and if any,
are locked away tight and the keys swallowed,
to keep any venturer, this side of the walls I built.
hidden from their view, moving in the shadows,
never revealing the truth, behind the red curtains.
nor will you ever know me.
Be ready to be treated as you would treat me.
As I now see most as a pack of vandalising wolves.
wolves isolating the ones those who show their weakness.
unaware of their deeds subconsciously keeping their packs strong,
I do not blame them, if it is how nature wants to nurture.
As it goes 'the survival of the strong'.
These are the walls just to protect me from those.
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