Self-imprisoned
In this abyss, where senses fade,
A labyrinth of fears, eyes stick to spade
A choice self-made, a soul betrayed,
In pale moonlight, a tearful price is paid
Man without a shrine, longing for time,
A barren altar, with no falter, heart in chains,
Death’s embrace, leaves no trace,
Echoes remain, whispering in pain.
Silence.
No more pain.
In bleakest dreams, her face indiscernibly appears,
A vision born of unshed tears,
I reach for her, but grasp cold air,
A love denied, beyond compare.
On this labyrinth of thought, I roam,
A mindscape built in my own dome,
Each twist and turn, a memory’s sting,
Forever lost, with no returning.
Walls closing in, a suffocating hold,
Lost in echoes, stories untold,
A prisoner of my own design,
In this solitude, I resign in forever decline.
Yet surrounded by walls, a thought appalls,
A spark of hope amidst the pain,
To break my bound chain, to find the door,
And leave this darkness evermore.
Shadows lingers in these walls,
Stick to spade it seems,
I gather faith from vivid dreams,
Every second, a chance to rise,
Painting new colors of these skies.
And so I stand, under the moonlight,
Embracing shadows, seeking light,
In very dawn, a chance to mend,
A journey forward, without end
Though scars remain, to testament of faith,
To battles fought with strength,
I find solace in this quiet space,
Of a soul awakened, it its place
Copyright © Charles Cuellar | Year Posted 2025
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