I sit captive in this prison
The walls the dead slate of gray
Nothing here to see
Just the guttural howling of the wind
It crawls under my skin, I can’t think
It’s just me and my hardened soul
Or should I say what’s left of my soul
By the personal sins I’ve committed; this prison
Befits a sorry woman like me, a naive woman who thinks
That I may see colour again one day and that the gray
Stark and alien as the eerie wind
Will dissolve into a distant phantom that I cannot see
But I’m really floating on distant seas
Somehow contained my the perimeters of my consciousness
I even smell fragrant flowers on the breeze
Then slammed unceremoniously back to captivity
I lose brilliant blue to the clouding of gray
I wish I’d lose my mind so I wouldn’t have my thoughts
But I don’t really wish that, my thoughts
Are all I have, maybe instead I’d wish to see
Not another speck of gray!
I am alone, I am the sole
Survivor of this jail
My worries, fears, and anxieties carried on the wind
But I believe that there is hope, a whispering breeze
That could drown the shrieking of my racing thoughts
I can flee this cell
I can flee what I wish I did not have to see
I can flee the darker corners of my soul
Until I lift myself up from the dismal, assaulting gray
I can’t keep merely existing in the gray
I deserve every colour of life on blessed winds
I alone will shed light onto the shadows of my soul
I can quiet the whimpering of my anxious thoughts
And I can escape, there’s a world I need to see
After all, I’m the one who built this prison
By Amanda Gibb