I, PRISONER

Yes, so here I sit secluded. No, not secluded. The word does not truly describe my present condition. Here it is I sit imprisoned in these four walls. Imprisoned as a common thief tried, convicted, and sentenced to this hell with which I endure.

My crime you may ponder, though in truth show no care. I, myself, neither hope to reach your heart in the pardon of my crime, nor seek an audience with which to explain the actions, witch confine me here.

There is a door. A portal. A passageway. It is a hope of freedom for me beyond the chains of this cell which holds my body and my spirit. There is a key which I can see. There upon a shelf it rests a hairs breath from my grasp.

I struggle and I fight as any hero born of legend might. I struggle and I fight as bravely as any child terrified of the darkness which the moon and stars have sent him.

Yet for that hero there is a freedom. A freedom won with the sacrifice of all in one’s cause, and yes the sacrifice of oneself to that cause which both frees and honors him.

For that child, young, innocent, and afraid there is a freedom. A freedom gained in the days which cast out the darkened horrifying thoughts of nights so young. A freedom which allows one so small, so young, so afraid to journey forth in the path of its life tall, strong, and brave.

That key is my freedom. My salvation. My holy grail I have long sought, endured, and fought to reach.

Through the cracks in the grilled window I reach for it. I stretch for it. My every muscle, every fiber within me hurls in anticipation toward it. Only to be jerked back by the heavy chains that bind my arms and my feet to the far- thest wall.

With anger I lash out, both physically and verbally at these demons that hold me bound in this prison of my soul. I lash. I thrash. No avail.

These chains are not stronger then me. This I know. I have at times broken these iron maidens rings and have reached that key freeing myself. I would burst open the door and rush forth from my prison, not a care for those who pursue, but running free and living. Living until that moment when my pursuers have gained on me so to wear my strength, my resistance, and finally my spirit to nothing. Indeed to crush it as I would think to the point I felt I were the sands beneath the marching footsteps of the mighty Roman legions.

And so, vanquished. My freedom, honor, friends, family, name, indeed my very self stripped from me I am once more entombed in this hell I have known all too well.

There is now someone outside my cell to watch over me as any child might watch over an insect caught within a spider’s web. He is here not out of the kindness of his soul, nor in pities sake to keep a confined man comforted. He is here to see that my holy quest shall never end. That I shall never be free.

He is my cell guard. My watchman. My captor. He is a tormenting guard this man. Not so in his manners or voice. No indeed, as prison guards are usually described he is strangely polite to me. He is a tormenting guard in the sight of him. The sight of him which reminds me so cruelly that I am a prisoner to this man.

Again and again at these times my mind ponders and asks if his strange politeness is some form of trickery, trickery which hides itself as friendship until it has lured me so blindly to then and only then turn its fair continence and reveal that of a beast, a jackal, delighting in the misery it has inflicted upon my spirit.

At times I have thought, wondered more so, would this tormenting man ever possibly help me escape? Why not?? It would free both of us. I from my damnation to this prison cell and he in guarding me. Why Not?! The answer always comes back the same regardless of how I word it - NO!

So long now have I been imprisoned in this cell that I no longer count the days, nor ever the weeks. To do either would surely cover the walls of China.

Perhaps reason will lure him to my side. If it is my life I have stolen then was it not I who suffered the crime? Was it not I who was wronged? Shall I be made to suffer both crime and punishment? Surely no man, no human being can, with good conscience and heart, wish such a travesty upon a fellow man, human being, a brother in God.

His answer echoes resoundingly within my brains - NO!

I scream. I yell. My cries vibrate through the very walls of my cell. The chains rattle in a chorus of clangs against the floor and the wall. Loudly they sound crashing against all that come before their path. Louder and louder it grows. Until. Silence.

Swiftly it rushes into my cell without warning. It rushes in like the cold frost bitten winds of winter freezing me in mid motion. All my energy, all my desire, all my spirit is gone. All swept away on that silent wind of silence.

Quietly I stand, not bitter, no nor tranquil, yet oddly with a strange oneness of myself. Perhaps my guard will once more talk with me? Perhaps I shall ask him? Yes, I think I shall. Maybe even call him by name. I do know his name as he has known mine for so long a time. I know his name. His name is mine as mine is his. For you see he, my guard, is me.

THE END