His prison is made of only three bars
The heart, pride, and the logic of mind
Rigid they are but soft enough
For an impartial person to break
But for him they surpass hard steel
Through imagination
His mind gives comforting answers
But it's logic is influenced by the heart
And the heart is emotional
It's answers cannot really be conclusive
So he turns to pride for comfort
But it too cannot be trusted
Because of its selfish nature
His prison cell is made of only three bars
But they pose a dilemma unprecedented
For their softness is not for his hands to break
They are a made of time
And only time can break them
So he sits and bides his time
He longs for freedom that's on the other side
Close enough to touch yet too far to grasp
So he sits with his head nestled in his palms
Waiting for time to arrive
But time too takes its time
It cannot be rushed
His prison is made of only three bars
It too comprises three walls
Frustration, pain and the rage of his anger
So he cannot lean against either
As they only torment his soul and spirit
Frustration tears his peace into pieces
While anger exhausts his spirit
He wails in silent sorbs
While pain cuts deep into his soul
So he streches out his arm to touch time again
But it's still not within his grasp
So he sits and wait for time to arrive
But time too takes its time
For reasons of its own selfishness
It cannot be rushed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem