30 Day Picture Prompt Challenge

Shackled

Shackled.
Unable to free herself
from all that ties that bind
her hands behind her back.
Unable to move forward, with
arms spread to embrace
what lies ahead. Instead
she is bound
to be disappointed:
unable to change her position.
Enslaved to the past,
to the path she once chose;
unable or unwilling
to escape,
to change.

Hemmed in by an addiction
to her warden
she cannot or is afraid to flee.
Manacled to a way of life,
she is imprisoned
by choices she cannot fathom making.
Her voice muzzled,
her will bridled to propriety.
Harnessed on a tight rein,
she fights only to
appease the demon at the gate.

She is the key,
but she must desire to
use it. If not,
her sentence is for life
at best, with
the death penalty a distinct
possibility. Surely
solitary is a better road to walk.

Better still, to turn her back,
to recover
her sense of self, of dignity
and refuse that caudal cup of
poisoned words and actions
in favor of the flavors
of freedom.
Dismembering the chains,
letting fetters fall to rust
in the muck, taking that first
wobbly step into tomorrow. Even
away
is a direction.

199 words