Breakout

Or… miss it all.

Photo by Edwin Hooper on Unsplash

One day, or day one. You decide. Unknown

In clay-walled cage, a flickering candle's spark,
A man's shadow writhes, a prisoner of the dark.
He wears the chains of self, a rusted thrall.
His spirit drowns in the echoes of the fall.

Listen, a whisper from the ancient deep,
A voice that stirs the slumbering seeds of sleep.
"Arise," it calls, "O soul in mortal clay,
Open the wings that time has held at bay."