2. Bury these chains

I am a prison…

Weights

Added to do damage

The kind without a measure

Not unlike this wretched mask.

Not mine

Help me pry it off and quickly

Before it melds into my skin

If you have time, my friend.

“It is not real,” we repeat it.

But the echo leaps about

Along the walls of the temple,

Smeared with blood and splintered timber

Cracked altar, stolen jewels

Nothing is sacred

All is ransacked

Slavery again, and we have

Our freedom robbed. Please,

Bury the chains…because they exist.

No blood

It is only a delusion

You will faint and ache

But it is a phantom pain.

‘Failure’

The echoes have no source so

We cannot muffle them

Simply ignore it.

“It is not real,” we will repeat it.

As it clangs between our ears.

Disregard the horror of your table

The shattered glass and damage, all fable.

The scrolled profanity

‘Abandon hope’

It is not there.

Look elsewhere.

You are not enslaved.

Then bury these chains! Bury these chains!

©2011 Luz Briar.