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Why Can't They See?
His face is shadowed,
bathed in black.
His arms are restrained,
bound tightly back.
His eyes are pale,
immortal jade.
His lids are swollen,
as crystal tears fade.
His body is tired,
bruised purple and blue.
His mind is now resting,
only few of us knew.
His hands are calloused,
roughened and pink.
His soul is crying,
for an unearthly link.
His veins are open,
bleeding red.
His voice is speaking,
soundlessly dead.
His self is living,
rainbow free.
But his heart is still breaking,
though no one sees.
