Poem: The Color

The Color

Inside these walls grey reigns,
washed by 2000 years of blood
and neglect, a place

of history, death and dark tunnels
that lead to the barred chambers
of gladiators and lions,

a place of spectacles and endings,
where the future was short lived
and the end always before you,

like a soul trapped in itself, unable
to believe what it sees past the walls,
unable to see the color and believe

it is for you, this sun drenched
pink and yellow and green, trapped
not by lions or warriors,

but something far more fierce:
the demons
of your mind.

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The picture was taken at the Colosseum in Rome. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom