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The doors are rusted shut
The spacious courtyard of despair
Where playfully legs of the convicted
Dangle in the air

Today the sun is shrouded
In a pallid cloak of grey
Mumblings of those, high in rank:
There’s nothing left to say

The past is now the enemy
To kill the last of days
And soon that it will call a name
For the oblivious place

Meaningless, yet full of meaning
Sprouts of grass, once looked at
Endless fields, no man in sight
Solitude soothed the head

A figure comes, his gloves are red
Glance away, it won’t be long
The memory lost which words it had
The only valid one is “wrong”

They’re talking, verily not a friend
Alone, contempting everyone
Next to the gallows where you stand
Compelled to watch all that is done

Hours pass, shiver of cold
The atrocities unfold
Allies dying, one by one
You’re summoned to behold

Condemned you are to live
Recurring scenes of pain
Your memory a torture chamber
Never wish to sleep again.

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