He is filthy
He was unpolluted once
A shining beacon of purity
Not filthy
He was locked away from the world
Left to rot in heaven
The light gold floors soaked with
Blood
Dirt
Filth
His robes are torn and in tatters
Whereas they used to be majestic
His hair is matted and brown
The pale strands mucked up by the
Filth
The stench of prison never leaves one's mind
Nor will it leave one's body
He is filthy
But not for long