By Andréas RB Deolinda
Stone walls don’t talk.
But if they could what would they say?
Sacred engravings carved in rough stones laced in patterns.
What lies beyond, no one can fathom what phantom lies behind those walls.
Or is my heart too wicked to allude a perhaps better reality.
Yet somehow, those walls stand tall,
Grounded in appearance, somewhat fragile.
Do not question their existence,
Each brick plays a role,
One by one they stack over the other.
Some walls aren’t meant to protect, some hide a truth.
If walls could talk, would you listen?