Trapped.

Trapped.

What was that world I was dreaming of?

The one with crunchy leaves in the fall,

The one with beautiful meadows and songs,

The one with no sadness at all.

What was that world I was dreaming of?

The one where there were no sins,

The one where everything was perfect

The one that I am not in.

I am forever, locked in my house with

An ebony creature, locked in a cell,

For eternity, it feels like,

It feels like we are locked in hell.

If the world really was perfect then why,

Why are we both stuck here, in this

Sorrowful place, if the world really was perfect,

Then why don’t I feel any bliss?

The dark creature has wings for freedom

But it will never get used.

The wings it owns are clipped behind

The iron bars, bruised.

What was that world I was dreaming of?

As I search for the key far and wide,

Longing to help my black friend

Get out of here, alive.

It felt like forever

Through the seas and deserts I searched,

I talked about the world outside,

And in his little cage he perched.

Listening to my sorrowful pleas,

He reached out his wing, 

Told me it was going to be okay

And started to sing.

As he sang his song

I had tried to find

The key to his freedom

The key to free his bind.

Alas, I found it 

Gently perched atop a stage

As I jumped for joy

And unlocked the cage.

‘Fly away’ I told him,

‘Fly away, dear friend. 

For there is so much more

Out there than then.’

But fly he did not 

as he walked out his prison

‘Why won’t you fly away?’ I asked

Then his feathers started to glisten.

‘You have been so kind, for a bird like me.

I shall repay your kindness, too.

What was that world I was dreaming of, you ask?

It is the one with you.’

So stayed the bird did,

But centuries after, where was the success?

The girl was still locked,

But now she was noiseless.

Author's Note

written: Nov 2022