3) The Halls Of Paradise

the room smelled
of coffee and
recognition of disease,
the hands clasped the cups,
the old war stories
brought smiles to the faces

all had been there
all understood
all knew that in essence
the tales were the same

through the doors walked
those who wondered if there was
any hope left to their lives

out of the doors walked
the wounded and
those who, if not cured,
had learned acceptance
of what they had found:

a language of the heart
for those who live without water
while others carry
the keys to the kingdom