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.