Prison  

Cocooned
Inside the shell
Of grief
The spirit,
A butterfly in the waiting,
Awaits dispersal
Of the long wintry night.
Consciousness
Of a bright day
Disturbs the blissful slumber
Efforts to yawn,
To stretch
Hurt the limbs
Pain
penetrates the soul.
Will the iron grip
Of the network of sorrows
Ever loosen?
And the spirit
Bask in the sunshine—
Flitting
From flower to flower
Nourishing
On heavenly manna
In joy everlasting.