For nearly three hours they processed and danced round me in their varicolored robes - their hoods flowing from their shoulders, marking them out against the victims, of whom I was only one out of many. They were neither fit nor weak, fair nor foul, but they had us under their thumb, as it would seem.
A large fat one, in black and red vestments taunted us with long, degrading speeches regarding monkeys and snakes - why? I don't know. But, the crowds cheered, as if the beasts in the coliseum had just made the first kill, and the fresh blood had drizzled down anxious jaws meeting immortal dust.
"How long?" I mused, "Will their incessant intimidation never cease?" They marched us in, will they march us out?
Where is the document they said would grant me my freedom? Is it a myth - perhaps a cruel trick to keep me sitting in this wretched, skin-scathing sun.
It matters not a wit - my will to live under their rule is crushed. My spirit tamed; my hopes dashed; my love taken from me.
Thus, I process, a robed and tasseled fool, a wayward wanderer.
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