The Bells Have Made Me Deaf

Upon my pedestal I sit
Subdued, almost the lion tame
And stare out at the world through bars
In this arena of my shame
Then in comes striding, Mr Sin
And postures to the crowds delight
With chair in hand and cracking whip
Atired in his false suit of white

Temptation stands before me now
He cracks the whip but shall I dance
Performing to the tune he calls
With subtle prods to change my stance
I feel the whispers of repute
The emptiness of silent wrongs
What use is there in defiance
The mockers gather in their throngs

While I am bound within this cage
I’m subject to his chair and whip
In my humiliation seek
An exit from his heartless grip
Some day, I know strength will return
And while the mockers stand and scoff
When Mr Sin enters my jaws
I’ll bite his swollen head right off

© 14th June 2002

Posted on Wednesday, November 16th, 2005 at 12:25 pm.
Tags: Poems.
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