Music of the Prisoner
The prisoner stirred in his dungeon cell
The captor looked in through the barred window in the door
The prisoner dreamt of home, a world away
The captor dreamt of home, not far
And the prisoner began to sing
The captor heard the echoing, haunting tune
And he heard amid the prisoner's wordless strains:
The prisoner's people
They fought a war they did not wish to fight
Their homes were burnt and stained by blood
Their children were taught to use sword, bow, and knife
Their children were a new generation of warriors
The prisoner changed his eerie tune
The captor heard a lament
A lament for the prisoner's own self
A lament for the people who held him captive
A lament for the dead
A lament for the living
The prisoner's sad song ended and he took up another melody
The captor listened and heard a tale handed down through generations
The prisoner sang without a word
Yet still the captor heard
A tale of a great leader
A tale of a great battle
A tale of great disaster
A tale of love and hate
The prisoner ended his music and looked to his captor
The captor's eyes betrayed his new understanding
The prisoner smiled sadly and said
"To give strength and to be given strength."
The captor did not understand his words' true meaning
The prisoner took up his wordless song again
The captor heard of joy, sorrow, hate, and love
The prisoner's voice filled his cell and spilled out into the hall of dungeons
A/n: If you read my Lord of the Rings fic, Past the Locked Door, you will find a reference of sorts to this poem in chapter four. This poem doesn't do my thoughts justice by a ways, but I try.
Please review because I am unsure about how this style of poem is going over with readers. I'd like to do more with this sort of style.