Please, just free me
It is only in my dreams
that I see promise
of free flight;
there on a ever farther horizon
straining toward a distant
Please, free me
We are shackled to
the cold radiator
of a useless life;
left to run,
but not too much.
At the end of our rope
and put in
our proper place.
So you bite
at the leash,
worry the restraints.
They dig into
your very flesh,
your very blood,
The maiden swoons in the dead of night
and takes the specter of Death in hand
as Good and Evil join the fight for delectable souls;
the scale is weighted with scenes of dark and light.
The sword of Damocles swings wide;
in endless arch as a still arm hangs
above the supplicant's side, it moves
in seeming airless room, her fate decides.
The jury slips away, they will not tell;
a feather touch would tip the scales hard
as if inside her swell of breast a knave
of cunning deceit has damned her soul to Hell.