The Witness Room
Once—when the silent Agent—ran—
Through Tubes of lawful Air—
We watched—from Rooms that held our breath—
And named it—an experimental —Death—
The Body—spoke in sudden Signs—
Of Grammar not our own—
It tugged—against the Promise land--
By Leather—and by Stone—
Across the Glass—a Figure stood—
So near—he shared the Night—
A Keeper—not of Time—but Words—
For Souls that lose their Light—
The Chest—forgot its ancient Task—
The Gasps—became a plea—
And Air—once thought a common thing—
Turned stern Theology—
No Cry was heard—yet Motion screamed—
In Muscles taught to Pray—
While a Witness learned—too late—how much
The Eye must give away—
And when the Room resumed its Law—
And Death was now—Complete—
We bore the Weight—of having seen—
What the Bible—doesn't Preach--
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