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.
