Breaking Bondage

Yes, this is where you hung,
the thick  chains of your own forging
binding you,
holding you fast,
gleeful tools of a well dressed Satan,
a lover,
not of your soul,
but your submission.

Well dressed, kind in his way,
the great distractor,
certain to keep you so focused on your flaws
that you cannot see
that the chains are rusted and weak,
given strength only by your own belief
in their power.

This is where you hung,
in the dark places,
with only the light you allowed,
accepting the scraps you were fed
as if they were a banquet.

How the devils danced!
How they laughed
until that moment you awoke
and the dark film fell from your eyes

and you found the God in you,
the light,
the strength that mocks chains,
the defies bondage,
full of light and color and
irrepressible spirit.

This is where you hung.
but no more.
You have risen to greet the sun,
to sing hymns of passion,
and dance, always dance
in the dawn
while your captors can only watch,
helpless before your joy.

About this poem

What holds us back from being our fullest selves? That is the question that has been on my mind this past week. This is less an answer than a declaration of independence. Bring on the fireworks!

Tom