7) Language of snakes

I want to tell a tale
from back when there was war.
A soldier stumbled in,
bruised, bleeding on the floor.
He saw me trying to hide,
shook his head, slow and plain,
he broke the quiet and growled,
you’re not leaving here today.

His boots scraped dirt and dust,
the air grew thick and still.
Those weren’t a soldier’s eyes,
something else bent his will.
In the low light, close and near,
I heard him say my name.

Hold me still in the dark,
bind me to what you serve.
If I scream, let it stay unheard.
I’m a hostage
to something old.

When I close my eyes, I feel it.
Something watching from the grey.
If I speak its name aloud,
will it take him,
or take me?

He fell to broken knees,
the light inside him gone.
I stepped out past his shadow
as the room breathed on.
In the silence left behind,
a voice followed my way.
you’re not free…
you just got away. 

I Am Hostage

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