Like Angels in a Cage

I came not but a beggar I walked over the threshold of doubt and it would not let me rest till I answered everyone of it's questions The monster pushed me into a pit of fire I yelled, pain forcing my eyes shut. He comes from above, arms outstretched, holding a cup. He then threw water onto me and said go forth! tell all who stare at the stars from inside their hearts that a place is made where doubt shall be perished. I jumped up the ant's will think it's raining but it is joy. For He is my cup it is my connection to a sword much stronger than I. I turn and run forward into my backward direction the air yielding before my footsteps parting for my shouts They carry my voice to all corners of the world be glad, for He is here I tell the elderly who shuffle and push the children about with their books and dirty hair I tell the women pushing their sons into the fields and their daughters into a stove I tell the men, hoo-hawing and yes man-ing They are all joyous, for He is here A cloud forms over my head it's body breaks and gives birth quenching my hair it is relieved and falls down upon my head My eyes look but no one else see's the Sun is gone. Nobody feels the wind pushing all around, the shovels and fences are moved about, the animals, they holler and scream, there eyes are ready to pop out. Nobody see's the horizon closing in, pushing the ground up and higher, till it covers the sky a dirt blanket, thousands of feet high Nobody knows that I will die not alone but loveless, tired, dreary, curious. Hark! A feather! I flip it between my fingers, squeezing. I have not my cross to give my blood to so I stab my hand with the feather My blood drips to the ground it slides along the feather giving the needles new color I throw the quill to the ground and watch the cloud move around I kick the feather away to watch as if it were chained the cloud move away The horizon is nearly upon me like a death ring forced around my neck I cannot stand it any longer I throw the quill into what is no more here The horizon folds in onto itself Forever I watch the horizon consume itself Forever the elderly know that the moral is only a beginning Forever the women know that the end is hungry Forever the men know that the question to be asked is the simplest one of all