The cage

In the soul,
in the mind,
in the fears
that plunge down
into the depth
of what was, you will
find the scars as
bars on a cage
that hold her in
with no way out.

For these bars,
formed on the forge
and beaten into shape,
are hardened and hardened
by the hammering and moulding,
till there is nothing left of freedom
but a bird in a cage,
unable to fly.

And now, even the
cage door open
is no invitation to flight,
for in her soul,
in her mind,
through the fears
that blind her,
she sees not the open door
but the certainty
of the cage and
the strength of the bars.