His Silent Wall

He stood alone on the wall.
The breeze whispers in the wind,
Hundreds of crying voices
Challenging the very heavens.
Trapped and forced to exist.
When all they want is to rest.

He sees a land where none rest.
A scarred and crumbling wall
Guards where life can not exist.
Death’s scent is upon the wind.
In contrast to the heavens;
There are no joy filled voices.

He remembers the voices,
Remembers the joy of rest,
And sees old, blue heavens.
Once, flowers grew near the wall.
Their scent lingering on the wind.
Life was able to exist.

He did not have to exist.
Love was heard in their voices.
Dreams would float upon the wind.
Dreams of a sweet silent rest.
He would lean upon the wall,
And gaze at the high heavens.

He hears the rumbling heavens,
Where the present can exist.
There upon the ancient wall
Pity is felt for the voices,
For like him they can not rest.
Hope flies away on the wind.

He falls. Strength gone with the wind.
He cries to the grey heavens.
He only wants silent rest.
He will no longer exist.
Joy is heard in the voices.
Then silence around the wall.

On his wall he can not rest,
The wind will always exist.
Listen to heavens voices.

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