This Metaphor

Here is my metaphor Don't touch it now I am a fisherman with a deceptive line I throw back nothing But by clever design I bait and hide the deadly thing Word like a bomb exploding When you shackled my feet You did not undersatand You were walking on oral quicksand My tongue is crucified if you fetter my hands. In a coffle There is no need to negotiate The eleders have left the tree and closed the gate I have no home again I am your fate This metaphor, this oil on water This incubator of fire.