If for a moment the cage door fell open,
freedom at my tired feet, would I fly?
Soar above the clouds feeling the sun’s heat upon my porcelain skin?
Would I hell.
I’d search the flaming skies for sin,
let passion reign and finally win.
I would scour my days for a moments touch,
devour your soul without a moments rush.
If the iron shackles that hold me down,
fell and once again I was how I came,
would life become a dangerous game?
Would I hunt without thought,
for the prey I have sought.
Would I look, would I be,
feel only what I see.
Would my guides hang their heads in shame,
would Satan light another flame?
And would every angel know my name?
Karen Hayward ©2016