It was gloomy in the mist, but he had to persist
For a deadline loomed over his headWater clung to his clothes and he had to suppose
That eventually, he'd get the much-needed break.The walls he built were blackened stone, and the intimidation had grown
And his loneliness was pushed down for a bit.They'd talked about this for ages, and though he was given his wages
What was the price for going insane?It was his pride and joy, and he'd sooner die than destroy
His companion of many nights and weary daysThe machines were complicated and still, he was persuaded
To keep improving the defenses and locks withinReally, he was quite fine, for he'd put his heart into this design
And watching it come to life was a dream come trueIt was a prison, and he wondered who'd be the one sundered
Trapped in this inescapable hellBut the question was oft avoided, the curiosity exploited
He was told that only time would tell.But time told him true, and soon, he knew who
Would be the one imprisoned by his build.And when he lay eyes on the captive, hands bound and body inactive,
In his heart, he knew something was wrongHe tried his hardest to be reassured, but once the prisoner was secured
His brows furrowed, and he frownedHe heard the pitiful pleads, and even he had to concede
That this was bad, and it needed to stop.However eyes watched his every move, and he would be removed
If not for his knowledge of the prisonSo he stood every day, watching the captive pray
For a way out from there, or life.And he wondered, could it be that it was he
On the wrong side of the narration?He wondered, was it him, sinking when he should swim,
Stuck on the wrong side of history?He wondered, though not chained, was he just constrained,
A prisoner in the cell of his own making?He wondered, was this dream just some evil scheme
Was he used by someone he thought good?He wondered, would it end, betrayal by a friend,
But was it him or them doing the betraying?He supposed he had no choice, and could not raise his voice
So he rebelled, with just his actionsIf it cost him his breath then he saved someone from death
And he supposed that was a noble way to go.***
phil and another dream one next :)
YOU ARE READING
Life Through A Seaglass Lens
PoetryPoetry- found by many but all so different. This is how I find it, through a camera lens of soft foggy green, a rhyming stanza of all I've seen. I am going to die by my own terms, facing whatever being shaped my soul, weapons out and teeth bared, o...