The Walls He Made

 I sighed with relief when he turned away,

Smiled and disappeared behind his walls -

I wished hard for the walls to not be,

To lose their material, to forget their being -

But things are things, and since they exist,

He smiled and disappeared behind his walls.

And since the walls had no bricks or colour,

And all that was true, they did not hide -

He lost his own shades for newer ones

That suited him less but painted him strong.

Colour in colour with his brittle barriers,

He smiled and disappeared behind his walls.

And since he had huge wings of a thousand colours

And his feathers were warm in the cold, frosty world - 

He cut them short with a silent knife of persuasion.

Of course, he did not sprinkle oil and set them on fire 

For in the carcass did he see himself in faith, before

He smiled and disappeared behind his walls.

And I am happy that he turned away

Before he could shine at me a few more times - 

No share for me in this insult and murder

Of the innocent for being colourful

To the core where there is but light within us -

We who can be that true self only within walls.