naykdpoet

The patterns on the wall conjure the images of which I am frightened. Images that speak to an inner desire, a lust for the unspoken that possess my mind. A desire to abandon to the compulsion to immerse myself fully, to be enveloped as a cocooned caterpillar only to be set free in the end, to fly freely with the beauty of the butterfly to be.

A wanton wish as yet unfulfilled but lurking ever so near the surface after years of encasement of self imposed limits set to meet the wants of others dominant in their ability to impose sanctions fraught with hardship for the unyielding. Hardships that surpass the throng of desire rewarded by noncompliance to their wish, an imbalance masterfully concocted to suppress such thought of escape.

Even now as I expel for need of relief these thoughts do I fear the punishment to be brutally spent upon my being for this foray of expression would it be learned of its existence. The masters that are, are unrelenting in their ability to distill from the camouflage of innocent rhetoric the latent message of desire buried without marker to the uninitiated. Many before me have met with such end for less than that of mine ensuring a rending of fate beyond the pale was it known to be.

So humbly I lay prone before you seeking compassion for the prejudiced imprisonment of my desires by those without remorse for their sins. Of what service you can afford me is not mine to parlay but to seek within the sanctum of your heart a prayer of goodness to diminish the sufferance that is that of others like me.