His gaze from staring through the bars has grown so weary, that it can take in nothing more. For him, it is as though there were a thousand bars and behind the thousand bars, no world. As he paces in cramped circles, over and over, his powerful strides are like a ritual dance around a center, where a great will stands paralyzed. At times, the curtains of the eye lift without a sound and a shape enters, slips through the tightened silence of the shoulders, plunges into the heart, and is gone.