Sometimes I Feel A Part of Those Tapestries

A hall
A great, big hall
Full of tapestries
Tapestries of family trees

Sometimes I feel a part of those tapestries
Eons of hate and ill wishes
Full of cigar burns
Burns where once were good-hearted members

I speak to them not
I see them not
Yet here I am bound
Forever
Beside them
With them
Of them

Sometimes I feel a part of those tapestries
Without pity
Without love
Without anything
No connection save the golden threads