Within My Walls

Within my walls the world crumbles

in caving cavities of collapsing clarity,

claustrophobia closes around my mood

trapped in this cage of cerebral bars,

they close in tighter during the light

when I can see the cracks I can’t hide.

 

Outside is the refuge I write

of eagle plume glides across the sky

and ascending ladders to terraces

tiled in the ceramics of celestial carvings,

thoss euphoric emblems from dream artistry.

 

But then I see the shuffling souls

who wander aimlessly the concrete

with death in their eyes,

prisoners of incarcerated desires,

freedom’s façade worn over the face,

just thinking outside is liberty

from the caverns in their heart.

 

I search the throng for signs of knights,

warriors who haven’t been martyrs,

crusaders that didn’t rent their conscience

unto a flag of gold.

 

Somewhere I pray to see

a peddler of forgiveness

that doesn’t ask a price

in order to end my misery.

 

The last one was swallowed by a fog

where life sleeps in calm comatose fantasies.