Our history has known cages;
Of all kinds and characters.
The one with bars of gold
And the others with floors of dirt.
The ones which held the innocent
And the others which freed the ghouls.
But not very often,
When you walk through the pages
Of your own history,
You land up
Imprisoned.
Imprisoned behind the walls of
Some doomed silvered glasses.
Imprisoned to a cage of mirrors.
Imprisoned to yourself.
Up until this moment,
The clock hands never echoed louder.
Up until this moment,
The questions never sent shivers down your spine.
The clock now,
Is running on a timeless retreat.
The questions now,
Come for YOU,
From yourself.
Who are you?
Why are you?
Where are you?
You run to the mirrors,
Banging at each one of them,
Hoping to
Either knock the glass out
Or make your hand bleed the answers.
None happens.
Nothing shatters.
Nothing bleeds.
All fall silent.
Then,
You begin
To hear
Clearer than ever.
You begin to hear your soul hum,
As faint as a whisper,
But as clear as a woman weeping
On a dark moonless night.
Your soul hums to you,
How
You
Are a handful of Earth;
Fertile, magical,
Yet forgotten.
You
Are a waterfall;
You fall down
The damp rotten roof
Of an old cave
Standing right in the middle of an enchanted forest.
You
Are a gentle breeze,
Flowing through an Orphan’s hair
On nights when he misses having a Mother.
You
Are a ball of fire
Burning inside an old lantern
Lighting up someone’s dark world.
You
Are the limit of the skies;
Unknown!
You are a poem
With all the five elements
Entwined in your heart.
So,
When next time
The world asks you
To introduce yourself
Tell them;
“I am life”
