The Hall of Injustice
The hall: dark, long
Walls of Tuscany gold
February like clouds lift
As if . . . Sun shines
Beckoning on words
Forward always too
Rodin carved doors
Demanding authority
Pity . . . battle ram
Needless—unlatched
Gait steady, stride
Gate opened wide
Reservations made
Preyed . . . I should’ve
Baptismal disappointment
Obsidian orbs
Indiscriminately capturing
Light eternally held
Fell . . . unmentionable depths
Arson, murder, theft
A chair, a throne
Mine to have
Minds to own
Else led to the hall
Dark and long
I apologize that this isn't a happy, warm hearted poem. All it's trying to say is: A life lived unjust leads to another life unjust, and another, and another, etc.
Please let me know if this "style" works, or if I should lengthen it with more details.
This is a rough draft (basically a free write to get started on something) and I have the skin of a rhino so don't worry about hurting my feelings.
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