Cages

It’s how we live, strapped tight to the ice cold constructs of fear.
Why does imprisoning ourselves give a sense of security?
False blankets drape our emaciated bodies as the blood collects at our cold, bare feet.
Our bones cracking beneath these heavy clouds and our souls never seem to escape.
Eyes pale, empty and silent.
The hunger turns inward and the ravenous pain consumes blindly.
Mindless metal molding memories, altering and skewing the lenses.
Cages of faith, doors and walls of fear…these are the things that we hold dear.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

A somber offering here. I wonder how many of us live in the manner described. Life is described as like living in a cage of hopelessness. Fear is the main component, but faith is also mentioned as part of the cage. Comes across as something of a contradiction.