The sun flares triumphantly
Above and out of reach
The forces of nature restrain us from him
Our ankles chained to the ground
The shackles outlined in crimson
We leap and struggle
Our chains dyed red like rust
Dark red
Not bright and warm like our idol
As we look upon him our eyes burn
Even when we close them
He is still out of reach
Little do we know the agony waiting for us up there in his embrace
We can merely taste it here
So what beckons us, the light or the pain?

-Galwyn

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