Muted Chatter

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Muted Chatter

He walked solemnly toward the green door,
dirty water covered the floor,
stench of burnt skin in the air,
greeted by a priest with gray hair,
but he still showed no fear,
a mix crowd of men and women came to watch him die,
he had no care,
as their faces filled with tears,
and his death may regain their lives,
briefly,
as hatred becomes despair,
in their minds, they thought of the nails
he hammered into his victims’ skull,
and they thought that the system fails,
but after they prayed,
the guilty verdict stayed,
a muted chatter filled the small room,
switch on during the afternoon,
and a quick end emptied the gloom.

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In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

Atanacio’s Poems (43)

Title Comments
Title Comments
In A Cool, Dry Place 0
Masking Her Fate 2
Complete The Beasts 0
Souls Sang 2
Guilty, And He Knew Why 0
Eyes Smoldering 0
Quiet The Cries 0
A Slim Figure Rising 0
He Sensed Defeat 0
Calm Passed 0
Marched Briskly 0
Trinity Sunday 1
He Stood In The Shadows 0
Familiar Stranger 0
Ocean Air 0
Earthbound 1
Into Glazed Eyes 0
Proof Of God 1
Peculiar Brush With Death 0
State Rested 0
No Sign Of Regret 0
First Kiss 0
Asphyxiation 0
Condemnation 1
Her Emotions Were Mummified 1
No Kingdom Come 1
Deck Red 0
God's Eyes, Grim 1
Floated To Heaven On A Dream 0
Nothing More Than A Dream 0
A Flamboyant Amber 0
Life Fell Prey 0
Emotions Sift 0
The Silence Was Unnerving 0
Die... 0
This Game 0
Only A Voice Mail 0
A Flamboyant Amber 2
Soft Kisses 1
Ghost Shook Her Head 1
Exhilarating Freedom 0
Muted Chatter 0
Putting Death On Hold 1