There are rooms of underground form …..

Chambers where people die,
stripped bare of their integrity:
sterile places in deathly colors
cold and dead walls,
crucifixes through windows of time,
life sucked dry,
taken from the lives of innocents,
poor victims of authorities accord,
put to death in various ways;
hung high or shocked in retribution,
drugged into oblivion,
into sleep that never ends
below the ground
where they find sweet serenity,
glad that life is done,
astute within their senses,
dried blood within their veins,
dark houses behind their eyes,
silver dollars taken to rest
within their graves,
free to search through eternity,
to glide on winds of time,
happy to be free
from the unfairness
of life’s travails …

the never ending desire finally