If only history could change I would soar over these prison walls.
There is this wall that rises forth from the ground in front of me. Staring up at it, it seems to reach so far as to kiss the sky. With no tools to dig it matters not as I fear there is equal height underground. Everything comes to a complete halt in front of this dead stop. Turning ever so slowly I find myself enclosed on all sides by this grand behemoth. There is no escape.
The sky seems so warm and inviting but as I reach out to grab it I come to grips with my inability to achieve anything. I sit down. The air stinks down here being musty and old; the exhales of those that rose above and beyond. This light would be so much brighter if only there was something to illuminate. Worth is not a factor when there is nothing to barter for.
Eyes peer out at me watching my next move wondering if I will try to climb again. A harsh lesson learned earlier that will not be repeated I smile back at the unblinking eyes. Safe inside my own empty skull as my eyes were clawed out long ago. If we could heal these war torn wounds we could be Pegasus in flight. For now the dream is staring into the abyss and losing one’s self to vertigo to fall endlessly onward into the dark.
I awake to find myself encased in a pinewood box buried six feet under; my home.