To The Face Upon Yon Wall Poem by H.L. Dowless

To the face upon yon wall;
did ye once grace some enchanted place,
or did ye once guard some forgotten revered hall?
Is thine image of some Inca King set in his ways?
Was thy face once one of those great emissaries or one of the small?
We can only imagine that thy face of porcelain was once one of a gifted merchant,
standing forever as a shrine unto his days.
Or is thy face that of the princess' secret lover, who endeavored to enchant
her with his skillful graces?
Maybe this image of thine is one among the laboring nameless who chanced
to change some dark misfortune that came by royalties stay;
Indeed where has it been written so that future time may have it's say?


Maybe thy face is of those divine,
whose image was sought amid the rising midday incense smoke,
when thy high priest designed
to rip open the chest of some unfortunate bloke,
holding his still bleating heart high
toward the radiant one who could thus invoke
those endearing feelings of the haunting pantomime.


Whom ever thy image is intended to conjure,
whether it be one to invite an innermost light and intense passion,
or one to inspire feelings of dread and woe,
by thy image alone we all shall never know;
still thy face of porcelain only possesses the same,
for the lack of recorded knowledge is to blame.