The window
Small in the eyes
Looking at it
The narrow view of life
The faint lit of lights
Flickering by the lamp posts
On the streets as far as the eyes can see
The wind whispers through the window
The footsteps on the corridor
Like amok dogs barking at the doors
The lonely soul sitting near the window
Smoking his pipe enjoying the twilight
The blades of light bursting open
As the amok dogs knock down the door
All the thirsty lights blinding his eyes
The man stands up to his height
The wind whistles through the window
The soft whispering in the silence
The leader of the pack shouts at him
“You are under arrest for jokes on religion”
The lonely soul laughs
“All religions are free
God never patent it
Our sins we will pay”
The amok dogs take him away
The small window the light blades dim
The leader looks out the window
He feels small in his eyes
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