Locked in a room

Chained to a bed

The tortured man leaves that room

That shackle on his ankle

Closing his eyes

He walks down a corridor to a dark door in time

Pushing it open 

He looks inside at a child of perhaps 3

Lying on the floor on a blanket

Through a window, 

The sun shining brightly on his fetal bent form

Smiling the child is

Smiling the man is 

As he crouches down to the child in the room

Touching him

Entering him

Becoming him smiling

As the other room disappears down the corridor inside he came from

A distant CLANK!

As a manacle falls to a floor free of the object it held

A bed sighs free of it’s occupant

An occupant now inside himself 

In time

Rising in a room as the child he was

Smiling at the sunbeams passing through the window

Reaching for them

Embracing them

Climbing the sunbeams through a window

To freedom in a blinding light

As a child 

Through a window

After doors 

Within prisons,

Within prisons 

Of time

Of age

Of lost innocence

Found,

Within a corridor inside a torture chamber of a mind.