In a walled in room I lie
safe in my incarceration
Call it a citadel a fortress a palace
and I the queen the mistress or the damsel
Metered light filters in through dark blinds
The manger provides
and passion lies chained in invisible fetters
there is no room
for other trials
happiness is relative don't you think?
Freedom too is relative don't you think?
The door is ajar
Outside lies an orchard
Apple Trees abound
Crossing the threshold
I could dance in the sun and kill the blinds
I could swim in deep dark pools
where the demons thrive
And laugh with the mermaids
At the end of the road
they say shame lurks
Damnation too for believers
Guilt for hypocrites
But death too is relative don't you think?