The Bleeding Statue
I wandered many miles, without an aim,
In dungeons, cells and chambers, cold and dark.
I searched each room, but they all look the same;
Just stone and mortar beneath a lifeless arc.
In these vast spaces, many souls like me
Endure the darkness in hope of blissful tides
That wash away their pain and set them free,
From years of roving in Earth’s grimdark sides.
Alas, such hope is only dreamt by fools.
Our share of beauty is only but a spark.
As men grow wise, they yield to tragic rules.
They learn to find their beauty in the dark.
But once, I saw a spectacle inside
A random chamber, no different from the rest.
At center, there, an odd statue cried
Some tears of blood, flowing on its breast.
With careful steps, I drew myself near;
With curious eyes, I marveled at its grace;
But suddenly, my heart was filled with fear;
The statue started screaming to my face!
But years of darkness strengthens hearts of men;
I stretched my hand towards its bleeding eye;
I wiped away the tears right there and then.
The tears stopped, the screams became a sigh.
The marbles cracked and through them I perceived
A radiant light forming perfect lines.
I still wander, but I feel more relived.
I hear that to this day, the statue shines.