569 – Willing

They grey ones
Look around
Once more.

No open windows,
No cracks
On the stones.

No hidden passages,
No magic mirrors,
No hidden tunnels,
No holes.

No choice
But a life
Inside these walls.

The grey ones
Sit resigned
And dream of hope.

Messiahs, shamans, gurus,
Rishis, roshis, senseis,
Shout and point.

The grey ones
Stare confusedly
At their extended fingers.

Messiahs, shamans, gurus,
Rishis, roshis, senseis,
Sigh and shrug.

Then one by one
Walk out
The open door.

• • •

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