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.