Semi-Solstice, Sort of

I walk the grounds patiently
And place my hand against the prison wall
To feel the hum of the outside world
Far in the distance one delivers a sermon on love
To a somnolent and earless audience
I am forsaken
But not forgotten
As a child in the crowd turns her head
In response to my broadcast
Hear me now
As I call out to you
Heed not the drums of war
For yours is a greater task than mine

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