Imprisoned

The sea, the sky, the stars, the sun; all look within reach, within the realms of possibilities. Like I can reach out with mine own hands, and pluck the glittering lights from the night sky. Or caress the gentle white lines of foam that scatter themselves across the vast endless sea.

The sun, the stars, the sky, the sea; all mine for the taking. I can touch them, I can feel them. Their presence resides within me, I am one with them, and they are one with me. I will take the power that is rightfully mine.

The room surrounding me grows larger each day, isolation makes me feel small. The room seems to fill out more and more, the cracks on the walls I have counted and measured a hundred times over, and there seems to be more each time I count, the world I'm in is expanding. My hands play with themselves absentmindedly as I stare up at the ceiling, starting a new count of the cracks.

The room surrounding me feels tiny, my mind is built for larger spaces, for being outside, for being free. The cracks trace the ceiling and walls like a spider's web, I imagine myself breaking through, shattering it like glass. I am destined for bigger and better things than this. My fingers interlock as I plan and plot a way out.

I can hear the waves lapping into the rocks, and feel the fresh breath of air as the sea inhales and exhales, giving the illusion of a light night's sky on the sea's surface as the reflection of the sun glitters off the choppy waves.

I can hear the waves breaking and crashing on the rocks, I can feel the energy they dissipate course through with each breath of the sea. The wind calls out my name as it howls over the cliff face, begging me to free myself from my chains.

I can smell the salt in the breeze, as the wind rushes in through my window, whistling against the uneven surface of the rock wall and iron bars. It reminds me of simpler times as a child, visiting the seaside.

I can taste the salt in the air, the wind is sending it my way, taunting me, gloating to me that it is free, when I am not. The memory of me as a child at the beach flashes through my mind, but I ignore it. The memory is nothing but a weakness waiting to be set free, which I will not allow.

One day soon, I hope to have earnt the right to walk free again, my body and mind yearns for the world outside, as all I can do is watch and stare, catching the eye of the occasional gull which lands close.

One day soon, I will walk free again. My mind and body have outgrown my cell. The world outside doesn't stop calling my name. I watch through the window as time passes by, knowing all too well that I will be out soon, and time itself can do nothing but watch and stare.

The rusty iron bars on the window are blocking my way, taking my choices away, relieving me of my rights containing me within myself, I stand alone with no chance of redemption.

The rusty iron bars on the window are no real constraint. I cannot be contained by mere bars. My life does not end here, I stand alone, with defiance and rebellion keeping me strong.

For me to touch the sea, to feel the weight of the sky, to reach the stars, to feel the warmth of the sun on my face, to feel the fresh breeze as a free man, I must escape.

I will escape.