Photo of an Old Refugee (reworked)

The deeply lined face
Spoke to me or rather I read it.
I read the pain, the agony,
The torture and the haunting!
I identified the rebellion
And the acceptance!
I felt the pride
And the submission!
Life’s spectrum leaped
From the black and white!
The eyes small but significant,
Rheumy but alert,
Missing nothing, telling less;
the windows of the soul,
Blinded too the voyeurs of emotion.
A skill bred; evolved,
Rather than learned.
Knowledge stored and protected,
Through non-return valves;
totally secure when young
But now, the face betrayed!
The emotions breaking out,
Escaping into the furrows of mortal film;
Mapping the mountains and valleys of sentiment,
The contours of an era!
History well written!
Closed doors opened undeniably;
the shock of secrets hidden,
Now exposed,
Could a thousand vessels flounder!