There she sits in her narrow room
Room narrow and tall
The room a cave cold and dark
With a shelf on the wall

To her left there sits a table
Covered in tiny jars
And to the right there is a window
Lined, of course, with bars

Every day that starts anew
She rises with the sun
Shuffling over to her table
Her job has begun

She grabs a jar and whispers
Filling each one with light
Then seal them up quickly now
Seal them up tight

Holding the jar carefully in her hands
She shuffles to her shelf
And places it with the other ones
Each one part of herself

The shelf is covered in them
The little bottles filled with color
Sparkling reds, blues, yellows
All arranged around each other

And so the day begins
They come now to her cave
Arms reaching through the bars
It’s her bottles that they crave

So one by one she gives them out
One, two, five, then ten
Soon she’ll run out of jars
Time to refill again

Each bottle given out
To another reaching hand
Gets swallowed up in one gulp
So quickly it gets crammed

They drink it all down
Then they sway with delight
A toothy grin left on their face
A sort of high it excites

But soon the smile is gone
Their eyes snap back open
They fill with panic needing more
Realizing how much they’re broken

They rush back to the bars
Reaching gnawing clawing
Please, just one more
But her body now is falling

It’s become too much
There is nothing left
She collapses crying out
Soul now bereft

So the sun sets and they go away
They leave her alone now
Until tomorrow when the sun rises
This prison is her vow

hauled up with a cavernous protector
far away from the dawn light
loss of distinction, morn and night
departed from those you love

casting a thought
to before you were a passenger
laid bare in this damp shelter
waiting for the walls to cave in

the days you took pleasure
in the meaningless endeavour
of the artificial existence
are replaced by days

so broken by monotony
and the plight of the many
so you sook a life most solitary
where your thoughts weigh heavy

each day you think of them
their optimism and naivety
as you draft another letter
destined for nowhere

as years take their toll
and the days feel like weeks
and your joints ache with growing ferver
you draft another letter

carven
your pulsating heart
provides all the light I needed.
Never
to run
out of batteries.
Until,
death
do
us
part.