I feel not like a thousand chains
Around me, only a few,
Enough to hide the fears,
Enough to hold the tears.
I feel oppressed unable to express
The cries of pain, in vain.
The more I struggle to be free,
The more enslaved I be.
What must I do, dear God?
For time seems running short.
The shallow breath-
Is it a sign of death?
The key lies not in trying to undo
The fetters of the mind.
To understand the whys isn’t enough;
It only makes the pain so much more tough.
It takes a silent moment
To instruct that prisons
Built by active mind
Are simply not
When mind serene
Becomes.
