Chains

 

Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n 

Rusty shackles clink. They stink of old iron overused. Leaving orangish hues on pale wrists that came into the world chain free. The world binds up the truth and locks it away. Anticipating that trapped souls never escape. But an eye with a singular purpose fills the body with light. Salvation is a narrow road but it’s worth the fight.

Love always, Esha