Prisoners, poetry by Alan David Gould at



written by: Alan David Gould


Our comprehensive wisdom is gathered here.
The hand on the arm of time
reaching back through the years
for the summation of some oracle

We are saddened by every nuance
surrounding this antique hall of sacred memories,
as we traverse its mysterious corridor
I cry inside for the finesse of an answer
Still, the mystified silence is the loudest thing swimming through the
rarified air

To realize that our lives are accelerating into a vortex
for the de-amplitude of a final scene
Yet we are still prisoners on the periphery of a collective dream

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