Revolt of a Subversive Mind

I am every man,

I am every woman,

I am the blood of birth,

Slipping through the cracks.

I am every child,

I am every spirit,

I am the light of the years,

Struggling to stay alive.

I am the hands thrashing in water,

I am the hands calling a number,

I am a tangled web of defeat,

Eating away one strand at a time.

He lives but dear God he doesn’t! There are deadlines and there are wishlists. He does none. He lays in the corner, a crumpled page of forgotten history. His arms push against the bars. The back of his neck scrapes against the roof. He is too old for his cage. His head is brimming with words, his body is swimming in ecstasy but these chains oh these chains! They would slit him to the bone before coming off. He fought and screamed and begged but has been kept pinned to the ground. He gave in and watched the pervading dark clouds as the pain washed away his faults. It was not his time yet. Time, you amount to nothing, if you have not its blessing. He grew in the darkness and didn’t cry for help, smiling at anyone who took the time to stop and observe the beauty of his cage. He spoke a confused language, lost love with the lack of sense his sentences made. Every element, every breath, every thought that once made him whole lay dismantled in front of his eyes. They mocked him. Now, he sits with a blinding fury. He is too old for his cage now. How long he stayed a prisoner was not their decision, but his own. He looked into the eyes of people for answers but found an even deeper embarrassment staring back in return. His bones are cracking against the hard iron. There is nothing to break free to, but he tries anyway. He doesn’t know what lies in the open world, but he tries anyway, for he is too old for his cage.

I am every man,

I am every woman,

I am whispers of the future,

Guiding you home.

I am every being,

I am every mind,

I am the love you seek,

Waiting on the other side.


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