Where are the walls so high?
The towers of the guards,
The iron bars that hold me there,
A prisoner till I die?
The cage that holds my every thought,
A parrot’s mimicry,
A cat that lurks about, I fear,
Keeps me safe, of what I’ve wrought,
The ropes that tie my wrists and mind,
Chafing of the fear to break,
Weary of the freedom near,
The freedom I might find,
Where is the altar that I kneel?
Before I bow my head to pray,
Where, the guardian angels of my mind,
When lost, and misery I feel,
Where is the spirit wing unfurled?
Would give me lift up high,
That let me soar to other worlds,
Beyond the Seeing Eye,
When will the questions that I ask,
Fulfill my quest that deep within,
To be, that all I am,
Then be at peace at last.©28/12/2011
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Regis
love,
Gina
Fulfill my quest that deep within,
To be, that all I am,
Then be at peace at last.
I've been asking myself the very same questions..seems you and I are looking in the same direction..
Blessings
Vesna:)
so good to read you!
Love,
Eileen
Akin I guess, to Hell on Earth.
Well done reflective piece.
Walt
no doubt, surrounding you ...
probing, insightful poem ...
One could do worse than set one's gaol so high.
Good to see someone probing the depths.