He whom I enclose with my name
is weeping in this dungeon.
I am ever busy building this wall all around;
and as this wall goes up into the sky day by day
I lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow.
I take pride in this great wall,
and I plaster it with dust and sand –
lest a least hole should be left in this name;
and for all the care I take
I lose sight of my true being.
(title by Sitara)
Poem source: http://www.saieditor.com/stars/tag.html
Photo credits: firstname.lastname@example.org