Sunday 29 March 2015

The Prisoner

He peeks out from the slits,
Tries to catch a glimpse
Of the world,
I denied him.

I ignore his transgression,
Affording him respite
From all the torture
I caused.

We used to be friends once,
My only friend once upon a time,
We would while away hours
Like seconds.

Of dreams and fantasies,
And far-away lands,
We built constructs of thoughts,
And then destroyed them,
Just like that.

Sometimes I hear him scream,
In the silence of lonely nights,
I shut my lids tighter,
By dawn, it's quiet.

Through childhood had we been,
Close as close can be,
And he made me who I am,
But he is inside now.

I remember bludgeoning him,
His daunting build defeated,
Because he would not yield,
I remember trying.

Sometimes he tries to seduce me,
Into opening the dark door,
With promises of riches none can give,
I ignore.

The hands he breathed life into
Fettered him.

And now he screams.

On wistful days I wonder
If in bereaving myself of him,
I shackle myself -
I draw a blank.

He fades with every rising sun,
His screams grow distant,
And as he dies, bit by bit,
Takes me along.

Fate made a monster out of me,
I might just kill him and find,
No place in heaven,
No peace at all.

I never wanted to do this, of course,
It was a struggle within me,
It tore me apart,
In two.

I rue the day I had to chose,
And in doing so set myself free,
I locked inside the prison of ambition,
The philosopher inside of me.


Image Source: Eric Lacombe

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