The heart beats
A reckless rhythm
In a body shackled by a prosaic mind.

The limbs that seek to flow
And surge like wild torrents
And breakers
Must fall like dull rays
Upon the landscape of conformity
Fashioned by the collective genius
Of a race that seeks
To inflict order when
Intemperance’s free reign
Could better prosper.

Curbed,
The natural instincts
Flail wildly,
Made claustrophobic
By the stern hand of habit.

Slowly,
Disillusionment clouds
The lofty visions
As shattered dreams
Become a commemoration
To the tamed spirit.

Steadied and bound,
Chained
By the surety of discipline,
Trapped in the vessel
Of which
It is the giver of life
The heart beats but despairingly,
As the candle of hope burns low.



Draw the stifling curtains
On this empty stage
Lest a wild, whistling wind
Should blow out that
Frail flickering flame.