We're locked in prisons of our own design.~Eliza Gilkyson
An old song bursts through my flimsy constraints
ambushed by a stray thought clearing restraints
invariably the vault door is breached
and childhood programs released to teach
if only I can see through the ordeal
how presence shrivels doused by the surreal
cui bono, I must ask, when energy
is sucked into the vast vampire machine.
The only answer, simple, sets me free:
whoever benefits, it is not me.
It matters not who spins the dreadful web.
I own my power, fearless, step by step
Inspired by: Douse, Ordeal, Flimsy, Song, Ambush and Vault.
Featured image from yesterday's visit to a 450+ year-old burr oak tree, one of my favorite beings, color bright filter.
Title and quotation are from an old Eliza Gilkyson song which has disappeared into the ether, apparently. The lyrics that popped in: Darling, you know I hate to see you cry. You're locked in a prison of your own design. Reach out to a very early time, when voices influenced a young child's mind, and break the chain, break the chain that locks you to your history.
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