Rays of light amidst the darkness.
The darkness was neither painful nor soft.
A cold whisper in the air, a gaol—
A visage of a warden wearing a tunica.
His tongue was made of silver, creating an illusion
of haven amongst the dungeons.
He speaks in lullabies of peace,
yet I feel chains tighten with each word.
These rays are not the sun’s, but lanterns lit by lies.
                                
My breath fogs the silence,
as shadows curl like smoke around my feet.
                   The stones remember every step
                   I’ve taken,
                  Yet I forget what freedom used to
                   feel like.

The walls hum his lullabies now,
soft as velvet, sharp as regret.
I reach for the flicker that trembles in the cracks,
a sliver of light untainted by silver tongues.

Better to bleed under the honest moon
than sleep beneath a ceiling of lies.
So I gather the fragments of truth,
and walk barefoot through the false dawn
not toward escape,
but toward awakening.