Bound

You call me up on the telephone
And express how you feel so alone.
You are a sail furled to a spar.
Your ankles, fettered to a bar.
You have sacred vows that obligate.
To circumstance, you orientate.
You have now come to accept your fate.
Into a corner you relegate.
As a hermit hiding in a cave,
Unto darkness you are now enslaved.
All within you, you gave.
Now you feel so depraved.
You have been so mistreated.
Now you feel so defeated.
You are tethered with a rope,
And tomorrow brings no hope.
You say you don’t like being there:
Strapped into an electric chair.
Your home is like a jail cell block.
Door, secured with a big pad lock.
Your feet, cased in a cement block.
Into the sea, your body’s dropped.
You’ve made your bed, now it is your grave.
Your heart, pierced through by a wooden stave.
I say, “Get up, walk out the door!”
Yet you remain to “suffer” more.
You are deceived, I have found.
Truly, nothing has you bound.