praha

... it sounds so full of pride, and it is.
The walls haven't been dented by the war,
the castle is still standing so tall.
Staircases sweep round, trams run,
glide through the city grounds.
Just calm here, voices are softened -
I feel close to death when I'm here,
close to the dead in this church building,
the rows lined up, generations coming in and going.
The layout like a formula, all the smells are here,
tobacco, musty bungalow, warmth of fire, the comfort of soft wood.
The composition of the central piece.
I don't know why it touches me but it does.
The choking throat never goes away
the blurring eyes I want to pray
to reunite my family with her one day.