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.
Copyright © Christuraj Alex | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment