Perplexed

In the abode of silence therein,

Duelled a soul, longing to scream.

A body its containment,

Enslaved to will of the mind.

Many wars alike,

Are fought on the fronts of one's conscious;

Where rebellious desires confront,

Rational suppressions lead by the mind.

Battling to be set free,

Choking on its own misery,

Breathlessly insisting,

The spirit ached with imprisonment.

Heart and soul joined hands;

"Beware the brothers in arms.."

The cries echoed, growing louder

The mind's trumpets diminished awhile.

Hammers and sledges drilled through the skull,

Every effort to break chains still.

Only then was there light,

Seeping in through skin.

An army so tender,

Hypnotically determined

To war against melancholy:

To tame vivid morbidness.

~Maaza; collaborative work with BleedingVeins