PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My life, a cold metal chair
Chained by my conscience
Does it get any better...

In the cruel dark
None can find me in my prison
Even in my screams of despair

My torturer and executioner
My mind, a calloused, jaded hand
Breaking me, breaking my bones

Stripped of everything
My extravagance
Is the skin I wear

Even that is cut and bleeding
Pain is the anchor, the chains
Pain keeps me locked in the cage

Sweat beading my forehead
Fever consuming time
Please consume me

My thoughts are a silent, crushing void
My heart is a blind, empty container
My hope is a lost, astray sheep

I shake with trepidation
The days that have come and are coming
My talents and sanity were stolen

I dream of nothing but a small glimpse of breakthrough
A little wax candle to light my way out
But the water has found its way in

I'm drowning, memories come and go
My fingers touching the canvas and pen
Keys and strings a distant sound

I reach but never gain purchase
I reach but I hear voices of mockery and laughter
I reach for the light shining through a small hole in the ceiling