Prison without walls

Prison without walls

Marching they come, marching they go
Such busy lives, so much to do
So much to see and feel and hear
I see, I hear, but I feel nothing.

They rise in the morning with a plan in their heads
a bright, shining future, laid out and clear
round and round, to and fro they walk
Never stopping, too eager to move foward.

It's all very well to wake up in the morning
but why without reason or even a plan?
When day after day is all the same,
each week a counterpart of the next and the last.

The days roll by, no life, no colour
Each day a living death creeps closer and closer
a walking death is no life at all,
a life in flesh but a death in spirit.

Round and round with the others I walk,
a bright, shining future, clouded and dim,
such busy lives, I've so much to do.
Days of endless numbness, nights of coursing pain.

What is the purpose of a life,
if it remains a prison without walls?
How does one live the life of the others
from a cage of pain with invisible bars?

All in a day it begins to choke,
the bars wrap around and real pain claws through the numbness
It's time to get out, to escape
If there are no walls, who stops me from leaving?

I follow the coast down to a bridge
I cross the bridge and come to a town
Through the town I go, then through rolling hills
Til I find myself in the Glassy Isle.

Here there is healing
Here there is joy
Here there is friendship
Here there is trust.

I feel my heart begin to open
I feel my head begin to clear
The colours brighten, the sun shines brighter
I see a path open up before me.

I am home.

SH  7th February 2013

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