Shackles

Skin dances around the fire of my bones,
slaughing off to the music of howling pain
as it betrays the wolf inside,
hiding in wait for the freedom
of the air and the moon;
the emotion not chained by society;
not chained by the civilized mind.

Give truth to the hurt;
give credence the symphony of the soul,
and rage against the dark;
breath in the warmth
of the inferno inside.

To chase is to love,
to love is to play
the harps of the wind;
the keys of the piano
pressed down by the feet
of the pained on the
earth as they run
afraid of nothing, yet everything,
afraid of the shackles
coming back to claim them.

-mine