The Fettered Voice
The voices aren't the same,
Yet measured on the same scale.
Some voices are velvety,
while others are dense.
Yet room was the source,
For storm to spawn.
Neither granted nor withheld,
Only the marks we wear.
It kept the voice in.
Once the voice is circled,
The heart’s eye becomes chained,
Refusing to speak.
Once the asymmetry knocks,
The voice already locked.
Some are sheltered,
Some are discarded,
Some are nurtured,
Some are afflicted,
Yet none can snap its chain.
The bound eye sees,
Only what was molded.
Some to be fearless;
Yet heart vulnerable.
Some to be weak;
Yet hold the strength.
The room,
Voice chased,
Was already fettered by the labels.
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