by alice oiseau
Caged I stand behind corroding bars
Where the last flame flickers subtly under a crow's wing
And sand grains trickle by.
I cannot merely fly away
For I am smitten with my dystopia----
where love is pricked and transformed to craving addiction;
Acidic is the water I drink
Poisoning my psyche and
impetus; a gift borne from the womb of Calliope
and nurtured from the bosom of earth
What foul and cruel yearn!
to stay caged behind corroding bars
yet knowing the chains cut deep and asphyxiate...
It is not you; it is them.
They are the crow's wing, the corroding,
the water marked with currents of toxin and apathy.
I swore to fight fire with fire
An oath (slowly withering and archaic) rests in my troubled thoughts
and incessantly haunts
...in the reflection-less mirror
Spring will come and end
The wind will summon me forth and I will set sail for paradise,
for something more; something of what this cage, formerly a home,