freedom's cage

inside a storm i’m swimming,
i don’t know who i am:
my soul is lost in transit,
and no one understands.
for each of us are different,
strange desires in our hearts;
different words to free our minds
or pierce like icy darts.

and changeling child that i am,
i myself don’t understand

within me shadows silent stirring,
echoes of primeval fear,
frightful comforts that they are,
constant nightmares i hold dear;
visions of my life before me,
choices i will have to make,
dreams that i will doom forever,
promises that i will break.

and changeling child that i am,
i myself don’t understand.

my future lies ahead now,
obscure as thoughts that lie behind,
and i’m trying to escape now
from this prison of my mind.
its iron bars of expectations
surround my thoughts and heart and soul,
and the darkness deep inside me
keeps my self from being whole.

and changeling child that i am,
i myself don’t understand.

the void that is inside me
engulfs the endless night,
it swallows up all wonders:
taste and touch and sight.
only one thing now prevents me
from following behind:
these shackles of society,
these bars within my mind.

and changeling child that i am,
i myself don’t understand.

this box in which i’m living
gives me structure in my thoughts,
yet the confines it enforces
are the narrow ones i’ve fought;
and sometimes won, but rarely,
for i’ve lately learned to see
that these strictures are enforced by
not a monster, but by me.

and changeling child that i am,
i myself don’t understand.