C H A I N S
The chain around my neck is a noose of failed decisions.
There are chains around my neck,
Clean, polished metal kissing vulnerable skin.
I cannot recall who placed it there or if it was my own hands
That tossed this weight across my shoulders.
I only remember that it was hot,
Fresh from the forge
Where some god of metal dirties his hands all day every day
To appease the deities above.
Maybe it is me who put in the request
To be chained to the ground,
Shackled to the iron of this place,
Weighed down with the promise that I could not escape
Even if I wanted to
And I want to.
The chains promise me it's an impossibility.
Is the impossible pretty to me?
Has it become shadowed by the silver dagger of reality?
Or maybe my vision is the one that is stained glass.
Red for the hate of my past,
Green for the contempt of the strings in my hands,
Pulling nothing but the collar on my own neck.
Did I place that there too?
Or was I born with it?
A collar of class
With my predetermined slot in life
Already carved into the metal.
Into my flesh.
Because it is my flesh that is burning from this mortal punishment,
Isn't it?
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.
Ah, also:
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Comments (9)
Very thought provoking with such vivid sensory and color images! The opening lines centered on the chain and its origin was a brilliant launching point
'A collar of class' oooo that hits. I felt the weight on my shoulders as I read. You pull at all the emotions when you write. Loved this :)
Gosh that was so raw, intense and relatable too! I freaking loved it!
"A collar of class / With my predetermined slot in life / Already carved into the metal. / Into my flesh." We all wonder what our mission or place is in this world... and do we have a say in it, or is it only an illusion that we can control anything? Maybe we're just led to believe we can, while all the parallel realities mirror our helplessness. Beautiful and thought-provoking!
This is wonderful. Who really controls the chains that holds us back. It's truly thought provoking. Well done.
Another masterpiece! Seems like you have poetry right at your fingertips! You have such powerful, precise imagery and profound word usage that makes you stop and think for a second... I'm crazy over it. Just wondering are you planning to publish your work...
"Is the impossible pretty to me?" is a sign that the tormented persona is capable of idle, aesthetic contemplation despite his wretched bondage. This made said persona and your poem capable of chaining me to them!
There was a lot to this, a lot of questioning about what holds us back and who controls that, like insecurity, confidence, expectations ours and others. Interesting, Silver. So interesting, I read it twice.
maybe of my own hands, WOW. Excellent poem