Chained

I am not a prisoner; I am chained. With these rusting iron chains, I am pained. I see the butterflies flying around. With absolutely no audible sound I see them even when I close my eyes. They don't suffer from any earthly ties. These butterflies have secrets to tell me. They tell me that I can always be free. All external ties that are tentative There is, for all these, a preventative Clear consciousness and conscience lit within Chase away illusions that lead to sin. As transparent as the butterfly wings If human beings make all mundane things Could they, to anyone, bring annoyance? Will they cultivate the culture of guns? If four weeks, like butterflies, are given Will they spend them on acts selfish-driven? Symbols of birth, growth, hope, freedom, and death Butterflies breathe sanguineness into our breath. Bonds, physical or psychic, will soon break. Foundations of fear, with trust and faith, will shake Metamorphosis and transformation Will bring about integral elation Be hopeful! My heart and soul! Be hopeful! Though mysteries within become choke-full Though monsoons and winter mop merry moods Spring, with clear skies, will change your attitudes.