Underground_Network
December 2nd, 2009, 04:52 PM
The Hide Behinds
They are in plaster,
In dark masks
In walls
And in the past.
They seek the glory
Of a thousand knights
With shields and gold hearts
Stretched across their chests.
They wander from town
To town and upward, then down,
Around and around
Until they have found
The glory they have sought.
But they don’t stop
Until the clock strikes thirteen,
A number unseen,
A number, serene.
They are in plaster,
In dark masks,
Unseen iconoclasts.
They raise
Both fists
And cry
“Tomorrow will be our last.”
They are in plaster,
In dark masks
In walls
And in the past.
They seek the glory
Of a thousand knights
With shields and gold hearts
Stretched across their chests.
They wander from town
To town and upward, then down,
Around and around
Until they have found
The glory they have sought.
But they don’t stop
Until the clock strikes thirteen,
A number unseen,
A number, serene.
They are in plaster,
In dark masks,
Unseen iconoclasts.
They raise
Both fists
And cry
“Tomorrow will be our last.”