Been Gray

---

I stand alone among high towers
edifices of black stone and rock
fortresses built upon experiences of life

Soft, cold stone beneath my hand, silent
does not speak of what it sees
or what memories betrayed it

Fury clutches me in its razor claws
fiercely I pound upon dormant stone
tearing screams escape from my throat, attempting to shatter it

Anguished voice carries upon wind
fiery lungs hold no more
cracked lips flecked with hate grimace in cold light

Eyes once blue, now turn black
despair reeks of hope
stares return to blankness, apathy regains control

Dropping on torn knees
before a block of bloodied stone tears begin to rain
I realize I am home

fear whips itself
I can not hear
and reaching forward touch my eyes

Yet sight is now clear
my blood remains chill, heart is raped--
my eyes are gray


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www.nathanpralle.com
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