La Longi, Silent Gallows Dungeon
Galvin the Bard lay in a cell. He had been too foolish to the wrong fellow and was freedom famished. Philosophy and fiction focused formidably failed Galvin the Bard. He chalked it up to experience.
Fortunately, words would not result in branding but it was unknown to him when he would be released.
“Fellow Prisoners!” He cried.
“Shut up!” Yelled a prisoner.
” tell us a rhyme Bard!” Shouted the others.
Ah, misguided felons,
you are a muse,
necks with melons!
Perchance partake in bitter calamity,
With a grain of humor, perhaps magnanimity.
We sit here chained with soiled britches,
Keeping silent, for fear of snitches.
You say torture, loss of choices.
They can stop our motion, but not our voices!
Fear not snitch, but listen to clown,
Sing troubles away,switch smile with frown.
I am here for bribe could not pay,
A fear of words, what I might say.
Reveal a secret, I did not,
Fear he did, of what I thought.
I am in chains for no good reason,
But to provide you mirth in this season.
Thankful be and thankful are,
Some of us with Silent Gallow scar.
We be men with naught to our name,
Scum of earth, ourselves to blame.
We be naughty and not nice,
Caught in prison from our vice.
We have our lives and our voices,
Our bodies shackled for our choices.
Our bowl they fill take hunger’s sting
Be thankful for the little thing!
Sing we chorus, thankful be,
Of belly fed and voice so free!
The prisoners clapped and cheered.
A guard opened the door to the main hallway.
“Silence!” He roared.
The Bard was undeterred.
“Silence is golden,
My tongue be silver!”
The guard stated in a flat voice, ” my club is wooden and my whip is leather.”
It became quiet in Silent Gallows Dungeon.
Author: Benjamin
Benjamin Thiel is a community leader, urban farmer, and author of The Ongoing Tale at Brothers Campfire. He might know a guy...
my club is wooden and my whip is leather. Hopefully our Bard knows discretion is the better part of valor.
hmm………