To the Tormented Prisoner

You are alone in your cell with only your desires and fantasies whispering to you to hold back the almost painful waves of solitude. The bonds seem to wrap around your body with no beginning or end. Your mind is in an endless chess game against invisible opponents for plans of your escape. Your face is contorted into a mask of long endured pain that over the years has become a comforting habit. You have been trapped so long that pain and survival have been the only things you could count on. Yet with all this your focus needs shifting. The cell that you have been in is rusted and falling apart, the lock nothing more a rusted block of sand, and the chains while endless are wrapped so loosely around you that if you were to just relax would slip to the floor hissing its disdain. Your warden was never on duty and never really existed. The long years imprisoned have changed you. Solitude helps us to quiet the outside and listen to ourselves but beware of its seductive embrace.