Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Creux Oct 5
This existent world is nowhere near I
For I'm just a tenant in this body
This vessel's just blown by wind so breezy
To follow the path that fate will decide

No matter where you look there is an eye
And escaping your mind won't be easy
It matters how strong the linen's knot be
As one like me might fail to see this tie

This existent world is nowhere near I
I'm here again, the jail where i reside
With these two windows that i call my eyes
Alone with my head buzzing, roaring loud
This brain of mine's a cell, so dull, so dry
And there's no escape, there's no getting out
This is heavily, heavily inspired by a favorite song of mine: "Mind Is A Prison" by Alec Benjamin.
ArcherGirl Sep 30
War, pain, heartbreak, corruption, rejection, injustice...
How could life be a gift?
What's the point of it?
I wish I had, the courage to end it.
I was so consumed and overwhelmed by this I found myself in a prison called Hopelessness.

Depression, Suicide, Unforgiveness, Fear, Self-hate were just some of my inmates.
Then there were Anger, Jealousy and Anxiety.
I'd like to say we held eachother's back but they beat the crap out of me.
I kept losing all these wars within me, now you know why, I've got all these marks on my body.

But still nobody was able to make me free. NOBODY.

Until one day in my defeat Jesus Christ entered the compound wearing a thorny crown, His body; all blo*dy, broken and beaten down. Suddenly,
Puff! My ears were opened to the sweetest sound and out of my tongue rolled this good old song, "Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like chains are gone..."
There my Saviour was holding a cross engraved LIBERTY.

For true is the saying "Who the Son of Man makes free is free indeed."
I know a place
Guarded by Kerubs with
Hoofs of crystal,
Fortified by the Lord of spirits,
Where the fathers Banished on high,
And their children
Between the mouths of women,
****** from the start

Stamped on their prison doors were these words:

''A beaten shell of former days
Once renowned for their virtue, now
Dress in shackles mocking
Their state,
For they were aroused to spread mayhem
On the earth,
And present sealed knowledge
To the seeds of Adam, that they might
Self destruct,
When they reigned with
Different names''.
There's a place we all could go
Be captives there for hours
A place that in perception shows
Us giant moths & flowers...

We'd smell the finest perfume
From Mary's flowing locks
For Jesus's  anointing
From her alabaster box...

We'd hear the singing of the buds
About to burst in bloom
Feel the wind that listeth
Into our tiny rooms...

For here we are in prison.
Here we are in chains.
But Christ has arisen!
His blood flows through our veins!
So no matter what is done to us
This fact still remains
We perceive the sound of heaven

Your voice is deafening
But it's still.
Touch my heart of hearts
With Your mighty will!

Lord of lords
Great I AM
You show Your awesome power

Carlo C Gomez Sep 10
Alone here
In dark, impenetrable power

I'm named after my faces

"White light into seven colours"

Written directly on this
Prism wall

It follows a rhythm of my heartbeat

And yet I feel
I don't know me at all
Dante Rocío Sep 1
This idea
is so distorted,
to mark our bodies
as shame
or lack of respect
when in their maternal
that rags
they wear
ornate us
and dictate
what our respect
when it is completely on
the contrary
and such rules
made by society
are claimed to be of God.
Our nature and self-confidence
of it
make even the most
shaggy rags radiant
and worth of envy.
As if coming to meet Them
purely from your own
will so eager no matter
if you’re even
didn’t count as a great
act of devotion.
That ****** is illegal,
that beaches where you can be
non-clad are
only for the “major” persons
(because underage ones
are supposedly
in their right mind),
and as Dante Quintana,
my eponym,
noticed truly:
how shoes
are unnatural
and how not wearing them
is not
a sign of poverty
or lousiness.
Remarking on the stubborn and void of
Our benevolent choice or strive
Culture, rules or traditionals,
How we made ourselves maimed
And yet still speak of too much liberty
Whilst it is just a beginning
Of finding inwards
How locked we are from our hand.
Or rather shaped as scripted letters in formal indexes
Ivyanna Aug 25
Soul bounded by lust
prisoner in a red-hot cage
where every step burns
and there's no one to trust

How desperately you want
how pointless your battle
you're the fighter
you're the jailer
oh - what a taunt!
Doy A Aug 9
I did not know this was possible: to be in 2 places at the same time. I am here, still here but my heart is elsewhere. I am here, staying here but my heart's packed up and left a long time ago. My body sleeps with him at night but I look the other way. I have looked the other way and lied to myself for years and years, blinded so foolishly by a love so strong it ruined me. The truth is always the hardest pill to swallow, but I need to face my demons and the secrets I've kept if I want to move on. I am in 2 places at the same time. First, I am where I have to be-- a place that beckons me to stay and be strong and forgive over and over again. Second, I am where I hope to be-- a place of peace and contentement and if I'm lucky, maybe joy. The mind is so strong that it allows one to endure great suffering through unwavering willpower. How do wrongly incarcerated persons survive decades in prison? It is the idea of freedom and faith in justice that keeps them sane and alive. It is the hope that one day, their truth will come out and their liberty served that empowers them. This is how I feel. This is how I'm still alive.
In the midst of a tangled present
and an unknown future,
I close my eyes
and dream of you…
A distant sunset.
Hands interlocked.
Walking together, on free ground.
Your voice, my music.
Your smile, my warmth.
You soul, my peace.
And then…
I wake up — gasping for air.
but I do not feel lonely.
They may reign over your freedom,
but they forgot about
that is my love, for you.
If you feel forsaken,
I’m the shadow behind you.
If your tears come pouring down,
I’m the pillow against your face.
If your mind struggles to sleep,
I’m the melody inside your head.
If you forget how to smile,
I am the Sun’s eternal beams,
and the twinkle of every radiant star.
Look up, my sweet butterfly,
and smile.
You are never alone.
You are the moon, I am the sun.
We’ll see each other, at least once a day.
The universe guarantees it.
I am always
right there with you.
My heart is wherever you are.
~ Shane Christopher
This is written to my friend who was recently incarcerated, to remind him he is not alone.
Next page