Image by Begoña Carreres — used with permission | The author retains all rights and permissions for the use of this image
I beat upon the railings of my cell When I discovered them I found the walls that kept me In my self-constructed hell I walked the steps that then appeared And met the maker of my show The self that I’d projected Onto God and onto you as well
I’d sailed within the darkness And beneath the sunshine’s balmy glow Until I’d brought the storms that raged And fought the battle with my foe The self that is deluded And determined to be bound Attacks with rabid vengeance As my cries to freedom sound
The depths of my discovery That haunted me these live-long years The clues, so reprehensible To all that tried to keep me here In chains of insecurity The fear of being free Of being light and magnitude The power I now see
You can’t beat a cacophony Upon the walls that keep you bound Until you have discovered them And know where they are found You can’t confront the God you made Your maker can’t defy Until you find him standing Deep within your self-fuelled lies
You cannot choose escape Until you understand you’re bound Can’t cast a restless beat upon your bars Until they’re found So make the mission of your life (The quest will serve you well) To find the edge of what you’ve made The railings of your cell
Thank you to Aziz Acharki on Unsplash for the image
If you cannot stand, facing, knocking at the front door If the demon is unconquerable through straight, unswerving means If control becomes unwrestable from the devil within And your mind is impervious to tactics you intended to employ Though their theory stands implacable within your belief and understanding
If your heart is wrestling, candid, amongst the many wolves of hatred, fear and peaceless writhing If the context of your practice renders it incapable of penetration To the murky depths in which you choose to sit and wade If the inconsolable nature prevails And the unrelenting assertion never ceases to withstand You can find a side door
Try creeping silently around, knocking gently At one that no one has ever found A window open just an inch, dark, unoccupied within All attention focused on the voracious vocation of hating
Try slipping softly through any open breach, however small If you are patient and merely watch the unfolding There will be an opening, a brick missing in a side wall A forgotten latch, a barrier stood brazen but choked on cobbled floor Pushed closed to no avail A gate that, neglected, has become derelict through the unrelenting poison play of time
There will be a gap, there will be an opening And in the tender twilight of eventual longing For harmony, for gentle remembering, For symphonies of joy cascading between expanding, softening walls You will allow yourself, secretly, to enter
You will feel the entering, and you will not resist Though you persist, focus and fire, fighting foremost in your mind Still determined on your deathful, rageful charge You allow this calm, small voice to penetrate your mind So quietly it enters you did not observe it’s coming Though you felt it’s presence, and secretly welcomed its relief (though we will never tell…)
You can keep your consistency of determination for death’s dying goal You can focus your attention on hatred, attack Anguished thoughts that tear at your heartstrings And cast you into wasted thorny deserts of your previous contention That infinitely interesting, unfathomably meaningless occupation
But still, this gentle voice has entered, and now offers you its council and its plan So gently it advances just a subtle change of plea So noiselessly it offers you a new dream, a new interpretation A universe unenchanted by the mocking, gnarling wolverines of war
You are welcome You are welcome to commit your time and all your energy to hating You are welcome to turn to battles raging and impervious within your veiled mind
And You are welcome You are welcome now to enter in the side door And offer me painless relief from the incessant clamour of my snarling, terrified mind
Holly Rose Thomas 