Tag: confinement

  • Trapped Inside

    Trapped Inside

    Trapped inside
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    She was trapped inside those walls of stone,
    Trapped inside a box that was too small for the hope of finding a home.
    The air was void, the light was none,
    And every breath weighed more than lead.

    She scratched, she pounded, she screamed in vain,
    But silence mocked her endless strain.
    The box did not relent nor break,
    As fate tightened the chains of her fate.

    The walls were near, yet out of reach,
    Their cold touch whispered of defeat.
    Each corner held a darker shade,
    As light and hope began to fade.

    Cruel fate, the weaver of that snare,
    Threaded her despair with bitter care.
    An unseen hand that bound her soul,
    Ensuring that she would never be whole.

    She twisted, she turned, she tried to flee,
    But every movement tightened her.
    Her mind, a prisoner of its own,
    A labyrinth of fears unknown.

    Fate laughed, a sound so cold and bare,
    As dreams dissolved into burnt air.
    The box was small, yet endless too,
    A world she could not travel through.

    And so she sat, resigned, alone,
    That box, her cage, became her throne.
    No door to open, no path to take,
    Just fate and nothingness were the cruel architects of deception.

    In that confined, eternal space,
    She saw no end, no saving grace.
    The walls closed in, the ceiling fell,
    And she was lost within its hell.

    Fate smiled, its grip tight and strong,
    As she remained where she belonged.
    In that box, that wretched place,
    She faced the truth, the final trace.

    That there she’d stay, trapped and bound,
    By fate’s decree, without a sound.
    Trapped inside, with no light to find
    And no rescue to find.

    That box owned her for eternity,
    Trapped inside fate,
    Trapped in silence,
    Trapped inside death,
    With no escape.

  • The Cage of Unending Nightmares

    The Cage of Unending Nightmares

    The cage of unending nightmares,
    Enclosed within a prison of steel,
    A soul once bright faced a dark ordeal.
    Nightmares surged from every seam,
    Shattering the remnants of a dream.

    Bars of dread, shadows’ clasp,
    Held fast within the cage’s grasp.
    Each night, a canvas of frightful scenes,
    Painted with horrors and broken dreams.

    Faces twisted in agony,
    Haunted the cage with chilling glee.
    The air was thick with a mournful moan,
    A prison where the mind stood alone.

    Screams echoed through the hollow night,
    As phantoms danced in the pale moonlight.
    Each breath a shudder, steeped in fear,
    Each heartbeat echoed despair near.

    The cage’s walls, once firm and strong,
    Felt the weight of the suffering throng.
    Restlessness took hold, creeping in,
    As nightmares spun their haunting spin.

    The nights grew longer, shadows tall,
    Each one an echo of a desperate call.
    In the darkness, sanity frayed,
    As the soul’s hope began to fade.

    Each fleeting dream dissolved into black,
    In the cage’s grip, there was no going back.
    Freedom was but a distant scream,
    Lost in the heart of a shattered dream.

    Through endless nights of searing pain,
    The soul endured but felt the strain.
    The cage of nightmares, a ceaseless snare,
    Held captive in its cruel lair.

    In the silence that followed, a sombre truth,
    A reminder of lost youth.
    The cage’s shadows left their mark,
    A testament to dreams gone dark.

    The iron bars, a grim embrace,
    Marked the soul’s forsaken space.
    In the stillness, memories weep,
    Their echoes haunt the cage’s keep.

    Within the silence, dread lingers still,
    A ghostly reminder of fate’s cruel will.
    The cage’s shadows left their scar,
    A cruel remnant of dreams afar.

    In the aftermath, a solemn truth,
    A reminder of lost youth.
    The cage’s shadows left their mark,
    A testament to dreams gone dark.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.