Prison Of Peace

They say that alone is a state of being
Lonely…a state of mind
I’ve been both in large groups

Lonely and alone, of late, are interchangeable declarations of my state of mind

No hand to hold or laugh to share
There is no one to look to
For…anything

These trees are closing in
I swear, they are actually closer to me than yesterday
A prison of lush green
And peace

Perhaps this is not what I wanted, after all
Maybe I’m not made for the simple life
I don’t toil in the garden
Or feed the birds
I could not care less for set of the sun
It only serves as my night nurse
Tucking me into a blanket of darkness so black
That even the glow of the fire fly is absorbed into nothingness
As is my glow
A candle, snuffed out
By the never ending silence

2 thoughts on “Prison Of Peace

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