Maidens and Their Towers

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Photo Credit: mairimart at deviantart.com

We are towers
or perhaps the maidens
locked inside the towers.

All we are is
solitary hope,
isolated dreams
held captive,
tormented by windows
into out.
Outside,
out there,
beyond these concrete walls
and broken stairwells.

We look in longing,
in the exile we created.
The open doors
lead to closed windows,
high in locked towers,
and the water pours in.

We cannot be freed.

Our fingers grip
the metal shackles
until they bite,
leaving rusty gashes
in our pale skin,
but the flood rises,
and we can’t help
but breathe in death
while the saviors
chip away in fruitless toil,
their picks not quick enough
to break the rock
and release us.

I wave
from my watery window
while you scream
from yours
and we never find
the secret passage
from my tower
to yours.

~Patience

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