Past the Prison Gates

One, two, gasping for air each count

Three, four, losing my strength

Five seconds more in this quicksand

Devoured in earthly pain,

After years of wandering, on my own

I was a free man, all alone;

In my wilderness, there was nothing to hurt me

But the harsh nature of my own mind.

It was hot, my first days

With eyes glistening hope and relief

For oasis every now and then

In an endeavor tread only by strongest of men;

It was only a little bit, a little

Only, from a span of eternity,

When my first oasis came after a mechanical pace

Decades past.

Far gone were faint hopes

Too much too ask for, freedom;

It was neverending solitude

Liberated, yes I was.

After my civil wars I raised my current flag,

Prepared to spend for the sake of preservation,

Was not far short of my ambition, transcendence.

There will never be enough

Of that  oasis I found

Akin my homeland, it was

A city of financial junk

I completed an orbit

After a lifetime, is the genesis

My revelation? I question,

Self-denial, I escaped the same prison

I was born long before

That womb trying to own me

For pure coincidence.

Once again, in my dunes,

Till in this quicksand, after futility

Too weak to struggle,

Too doubtful for help,

I can only hope for utopia

Beneath this earthly middle-east;

But someday, I’ll be free, true liberty

Whatever that may be,

Past the prison gates,

In a world that is me;

Wait for me,

Just another eternity;

For the sake of your dreams

You know, I will be.

I am a blogger, poet, artist and an aspiring novelist. Through Iridescent Anatomies, I advocate for idea journaling, therapeutic writing and other introspective work.

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