poem and quote

my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
melancholy, blue it was
beautiful
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
which keeps
in all things not spoken of
a pen of steel
they ask me where i've been
this is the arsenal
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
when i go back to earth
passing through huddled and ugly walls
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam