He still managed to smell the roses, through the concrete cracks. Imprisoned was his body, but his senses still intact.
He still managed to see the horizon, from behind the isolating walls, he may have been a dreamer, but he was an optimist above all.
He still managed to feel the warmth of his dear mothers affection, as he lay his head on the cold steel bars…it takes disconnection from reality to experience delusional sanity.
And yet he still managed to hear his children’s laughter, regardless of the echoing silence, its wondrous how memories survive, and channelling them is timeless.
And when it was time for food, he could taste the scrumptious fish of the vast red sea, for prison food was not food for an innocent man like he.
By Faria, December 6th 2015