From her jail house soul screamed words like hardballs that hit the walls of the prison of her existence and bounced back at her with such force she fell into a deep depression, swallowed the guile of shame and felt the chains of guilt yet again!
Weeping for liberation …again.
Whingeing in frustration …again
“Mad? Who said I am mad? I have gladly left the land of OZ, the place of gourmet meals laced with poison, where exposed as mere sugar coated lies, sages’ tongues wag niceties and acts picture love”
Hmm, she had left that place…only in her dreams but not in reality it seems.
She yearned to escape the less than place under smothering commands and fearful reprimands, to the more than place of the overcomer and a realised destiny.
No more a locomotive fuelled by anger amidst the wounded masses called Reactionary.
Weeping for liberation … again
Whingeing in frustration … again
The sound of her tears dripping on the mirror beneath her face reminded her of raindrops on her window sill as she lay peaceful…once upon a time.
She looked back at self and questioned “where is that peace of yesteryears? Where?” then instead of her face she saw Chaos, that counterfeit self… that agent of confusion, that thief of her destiny… that…then she screamed.
A scream that was unlike the sound of defeat, but like a ball of fire unwilling to hit the ground lifeless, for it gained momentum, energised and thundered a command to the lifelong foe glaring back at her “DEPART!”.
As the sound echoed, she saw Chaos flee with her hangman’s noose in hand with dreadful masked cohorts in tow.
And then she knew it,
her voice once lost, regained,
her true self, reacquainted.
No more to weep for liberation … again.
No more to whinge in frustration … again.
©️April 2019 DENyamekye