Chained in a pit, deep and dark,
defined by existence in those depths.
Fingers raw and bleeding
trying to claw her way to freedom,
slumping at last in the miry bottom,
despair like lead settling in her veins.
Then suddenly the sun shines in
and bathes the prisoner in light,
scattering the simpering shadows,
bringing warmth and hope.
But the sun passes on
as all good things do;
the transitory warmth
never reaching the ice in her marrow.
And she’s left in the dark again,
at the bottom of the pit…
alone.
Photo credit: Stocksnap.io
