The Moulting Cage
The Moulting Cage hath fastened yet I feel as though I fly
Free from the guilt of a burdening reality.
My arms demand movement to the rhyme
Sweet Ecstasy entices me to dance her circle
She says take a chance on me, I’ll set you free
As you walk amongst the ancient trees, Ah Sweet Ecstasy.
Upon the whispering winds fly the cries of demented hounds
They seek to ground us with their claws
They seek to close tight the doors of perception
They seek to know you as you would never know yourself
They seek to place fairytale wisdoms upon the shelf.
poem by David Lacey
Added by Poetry Lover
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