The Caged Bird’s Aria

Dependent on the doting demon that enslaved me,
Crippled by his steady hand, pain thwarted,
By that which he administers cautiously,
Ensuring perpetual imprisonment.

Dyer-Bolique removed an unwanted lower limb,
Chaining body and soul indefinitely to him,
His silent whispers mouth ‘no pain.’
Singing in his steel cage.

In his sights before I knew of his shadowy existence,
Targeting his kindred spirit, only to cage her,
That was always YOUR design!

Words of surrender no longer pass my lips,
It is given wordlessly, and enforced aggressively,
Duplicitous Dyer-Bolique; protector and prison guard.

Still, he shares his torture of others with me,
Still, he touches me with rapturous passion,
Driven by the thrill of my defeat.
Swollen with my suffering.

I do not speak, but I sing to appease his fervent ire,
The dulcet melody disarms his fortifications,
And I please him with my passionate tones.

Day and night merge, submission is a waiting game,
And the opportune moment arrives,
As he descends to our basement,
I try to flee.

Thee chair so thoughtfully given, drives forth,
Towards the unguarded portcullis,
The key is turned quietly,
Handle pulled down,
Door manipulated…

As freedom calls to the caged bird within,
His shadow looms behind me.