10 July 2024

Freedom of Confines

Hate this room, hate this life.
Need a final escape-
Emancipation for good.
So the chair that warmed your ass,
Facilitates one final climb and doesn't
Hesitate to topple this time.

The noose tightens around
Your neck. Eyeballs pop out,
Tongue sticks between the teeth
And the drool off your mouth
Greases the rusty ribs, so that
The soul could escape without grate.

The legs sway rapidly, and
The hands try to conjure help for
One last time but the feather-like
Beast, your soul, is already on
Its maiden flight- Only to get stuck in
The cobwebs in the upper right
Corner of your room.

'One prison' pushing you into another.
'The beyond' you sought now
Stares at the chair you had toppled.
And the ass-less soul misses
Its cozy warmth and the freedom
That was within the walls.