Searching- A saga ✔

14- Thirst of a Prisoner

My life in an allegory-

Like a prisoner shackled in the prison,

Iron fetters encasing me,

Chocking me, my parched mouth

Yearns for the urn,

Brimming with water,

Just a yard away.

I stumble forward, my movements

Restricted by the massive shackles

That encircle my arms and feet.

My hands- a hairsbreadth away,

From that boon of an urn.

But I cannot touch it,

For my manacles prevent further movement.

My salvation- that water;

But unreachable because of my shackles.

I try.

And try.

And try.

But in vain.

I know I need to break-

Apart from my shackles

To earn my salvation-

That urn of water.

But I'll tell you what this means

This perfect allegory of my life.

Life is my prison,

My relations and expectations,

And reputation and glory;

All these fetter and choke me,

Yet I cannot leave them,

I cannot break free from them.

Even though I do know

That to reach salvation...

To reach Him, my savior...

To find him...

Everything depends on me freeing 

Myself from these temporary shackles.

I want to, I need to break free.

But I can't...

I just can't and it suffocates me...

I want to reach that urn.

Reach Him.

But how do I?

I just keep trying.

Or die trying,

Of this unquenchable thirst

For Him.