The Prisoner
While I sit here in the ruins of my past,
the room turns darker and myself, a ghost.
There was a time when,
Flying away was a choice, left
and coming back when the time felt right.
Mumbling of stones is all I hear
Mind has grown tired listening.
There was a time when,
hibernating was a nice idea
to take a break ,let the thoughts settle,
to wait for the pain to drip away,
start writing letters to ones I love,
Exploring depths never knew I had.
But this seems to be a hell of thoughts!
that've imprisoned my weird dear soul.
And I live to love this dark room;
Nothing beyond; Nor within.
Insanity is a tiny step away.
There's no escape; not yet.
I hope everyone is freed in no time
with nothing more to worry.
Till then, be the prisoner yourself
and stay away from the troubles.
04-04-2020
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Contest Name: Quarantine Poems
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