I Am a Prisoner

“I am a prisoner—not behind bars of iron, but within the fragile walls of flesh and earth. My soul, vast as eternity, is caged in this temporary world, longing for the freedom of the Divine.”

The first time I realized I was a prisoner, I was not sitting behind iron bars. I was walking under an open sky. The breeze touched my face, the world seemed vast, and yet something inside me whispered: “You are not free.”

It was not the kind of prison one could see. No walls, no guards, no keys. My chains were invisible—made of time, body, and longing. I carried them wherever I went. The Sufis were right when they said, “The body is the veil, the soul is the truth.” For within this fragile body, my soul trembled like a bird caged too long.

By day, I lived like everyone else—smiling, working, pretending. But inside, I was restless. People spoke of freedom, of choices, of living life on their own terms. Yet when I looked closer, I saw ropes around every heart: greed tying one man, fear binding another, and love of the temporary enslaving almost all. We were all prisoners of this earth, but only a few admitted it.

At night, my cell became clearer. I would sit in silence, feeling the weight of existence pressing in. It wasn’t the walls around me that suffocated—it was the illusion that this world was everything. My ego was the jailer, whispering: “Hold on to wealth. Hold on to status. Hold on to desire.” And I obeyed, not knowing these were shackles around my spirit.

Then one night, something changed. The air grew heavy with a presence I cannot describe. It was neither a dream nor a vision but a light that spoke without words. In that silence, I heard: “You are not the prisoner of earth. You are the prisoner of your own forgetfulness. Remember your Source, and the door will open.”

The words struck me like fire. All my life, I had been searching for freedom outside—beyond walls, beyond rules, beyond people. But the true prison was inside me. My soul was chained not by the earth, but by my own forgetfulness of the Divine.

That night, I wept. But they were not tears of despair; they were tears of recognition. I finally understood the Sufi saying: “Die before you die.” To die before death means to let the ego dissolve, to strip away the illusions, to taste eternity while still living.

From that day, my prison began to transform. The walls I once cursed became teachers. The silence that once suffocated became prayer. My breath turned into remembrance, each inhale a gift, each exhale a surrender. My heart, once a cage, began to feel like a doorway.

I saw people differently too. Those who looked free were often the most bound. I watched them chase wealth as if it could buy eternity, cling to pride as if it could last, drown in desire as if it could save them. They were prisoners, just like me. Only I had been shown my chains, while they still called theirs freedom.

The truth is, this earth will always be a prison for the soul. No matter how vast the sky, it is still a ceiling to a being created for infinity. But prison is not punishment—it is preparation. These walls, these chains, these trials—they are shaping me for the day the true freedom comes.

Now, when I wake, I no longer ask, “When will I be free?” Instead, I whisper, “How can I use this captivity to remember Him?” For freedom is not in running away but in surrendering deeply. And in that surrender, I taste glimpses of eternity.

Yes, I am a prisoner. But no, I am not defeated. I am a seeker walking the narrow path of remembrance, where even chains can shine with meaning. One day, the final dawn will rise, and the door will open. My soul will step into the vastness it always belonged to.

And on that day, I will smile and say:

"I was never truly a prisoner—I was always a soul preparing to return Home."

Author’s Note

This story is not just fiction—it is a reflection of how many of us feel in this life. We chase freedom in the wrong places, forgetting that the truest escape is not outside but within. Sufism teaches us that every prison can become a place of awakening if we learn to remember the Divine. If you ever feel caged by life, pause, breathe, and ask: “What are my true chains?” The answer may surprise you.