Shackles

I want to break away
from these shackles of bondage.

Flesh on my wrists cut,
ankles swollen in trial.

Eyes blinker at the stray light,
accustomed to the engulfing darkness.

The array of ants in motion
contrast the cacophony of the mind.

Thoughts hinged to reality
fight for a space
make a corner its own;
still delusions seem comforting...
even the blunt swords cut through.

Despair shrouds the heart,
chasm of unexplained moments.

We are but a victim of self-
treacherous games to maintain the image,
that exists in imaginary silhouette.

We live in a world we create
wanting to control what is beyond us.

And in this chaos of desire,
we create these shackles that bind us.

Comments

MITHRAASMI said…
Very true.
i too agree with you.
@"We are but a victim of self-
treacherous games to maintain the image,"--> how much ever one tries to live in an absolute world, we come back to the relativeness and lose our uniqueness in an attempt to blend or follow the trend.
@"We live in a world we create
wanting to control what is beyond us."-->but in vain!! the more we try to control,things become messy.
@"I want to break away
from these shackles of bondage."-->yup,nobody likes to be bound.freedom is being able to live like how we want.

splendid poem :)
Madhurima said…
@ Mithraasmi: Thanks dear. It is so true the concept of freedom, but i wonder if most of us take it for granted:)had written the following piece in 2007, echo-ing the sentiment of freedom and independence.http://madhurimadas.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-am-independent.html

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