His heart was still living in his mind.
He's still reading the green letter of his fancy,
still reminiscing the stories they once have.
He's still revising them in the deep of night.
Smokes from the dead candlelight...
Her soldiers came
and knocked him, not on his door.
He rubbed his eyes after yawn
and watched himself become a rug,
behind these bars, on the greasy floor.
He asked why. "It's the order."
He asked when. "By the dusk," they said.
"Wherever your treasure is,
there your heart goes."
were the very last words he penned.
Outside the bars, he breathed fog. On a lit platform he...