Metal bound, wrist and ankle,
A coldness of joints you've come to loathe,
Questions rattle with the metal,
Riddles with answers in the darkness
To why you’re here?
What you've done?
What everyone else is doing?
The ringing of these shackles,
Are others going through this?
And you forget,
If it’s just you,
Its always been you,
Why do you care for these things?
These things that aren't self centered,
It stops making noise when you do,
In the midst of these constraints,
on each link you create you realize,
This metal is forged by you.
The chains better left on.
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