Out Of Shackles

The poem is the grotesqueness of being a captive, the languidness and the frustration into which are dragged into. It's also a piece paging the pangs and pains of being under control as the poem persona provides. Above all, it is a paragon of pretty hopes with which the poet surface his optimism to the outside world

————

One in the night,

Stirred like a wreath of smoke,

Vanished his dark shadow,

Into the eyes of the darkness,

With some bloated blows of gun...

Cease us to out,

Like a conceived coconut,

Balling in the courtyard of its seller.

We are all pregnant

Of words that can't be uttered,

And some complaints that keep within us a graveyard silence.

For we may call to farewell the earth,

Just as we never want...

....ever since, our smiles never be real,

And our eyes, debauching our shadows,

Right on the vessel of your powers,

That our words may never outbreak,

And cries,

And moans.

We are sold a price that can't lure...

Even a man that his eyes see but can understand what he sees,

Flex against liberty,

Our all, behind the walls,

And hearts on shirt,

Shirt that your weapons coated us.

Heretofore, we are rising to fall,

Fall out of the shackles you moulded us for,

And the songs you dance us to.

Free and free,

Our words,

Like a swarm of bee,

In their Combs.

By Jamzy de Lord