Chains

[Delta40]

When did I get tangled
in the sticky threads of science
superstition and magic?
If only I could dissolve
into my own shell
and metamorpose my view
with nature's unseen hand
through the eyes of God
and not through Man.
Like a zealous slave trader,
I scramble to the dock of my soul
and place the highest bid
that I might whip and chain
my heart to plantations of hope
Perhaps my penitent hands
will tear the cobwebs of my past.

[Haunted]

That's intense, Delta. A lot of tension between plantations of hope and one's penitent hands. Great use of diction.

[Delta40]

Thank you as always Haunted.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I felt there was a poem within this poem in terms of the hurly-burly of verbs: "tangled...dissolve...metamorphose... scramble". Potent stuff!

[hillwalker]

Great poem - love the metaphor of the 'slave trader' as your subconscious/conscience.

H