Prisoner

There is a silence
That hangs between the tongue
And the throat, like a thread
Unraveling, a secret whispered
Only to be swallowed by the dark,
And in this silence, we learn
How to be prisoners of our own making.

They never told us, did they,
That the walls around us
Were erected by our own hands?
That we, the architects of our fates,
Have unknowingly crafted cells
From the fragile scaffolding
Of our hopes and dreams.

The world taught us
To keep our eyes wide open,
But not to question
The very ground we stood on.
So we walked through corridors
Of illusions, chasing shadows,
Unaware that we were treading
On the edge of a precipice,
Always one step away from falling.

And now, the truth arrives,
A drop of rain on parched lips,
That we have been molded
Into obedient captives,
Nurtured in the garden of ignorance,
Watered by the lies we were fed.
We have walked this earth
Believing it was our kingdom,
But it was our cell all along.

But listen, my dear prisoner,
To the sound of your heartbeat,
The rhythm of your untamed spirit,
For it knows no walls, no boundaries.
They can trap your body,
But they can never bind your mind.

In the dark corners of your soul,
Where light glimmers and hope persists,
Let the knowledge of your captivity
Ignite a fire, burn down these walls.
For the greatest escape is not in fleeing,
But in realizing that we are not meant
To be confined, to be caged,
That our freedom resides within us.

So here, my fellow prisoner,
Let us whisper to the wind,
Let us share our secret rebellion,
That the nemesis of a prison
Is not the barred door,
But the belief that it is our only home.