The Prisoner

As my gaze drifts to the world across, the nature of the latter appeals to me like candy floss…

For two days and two, I have lain on my bed, a prisoner of my own device,

Ah, as my body struggles to retain its natural capabilities, the malaise within gleefully carries on with its erstwhile fragilities…

I cry, beg and pray for a sign of relief, when I am met anew with the vision of The Last Leaf,

As The Leaf renews my inner strength, I feel alive again, though my corporeal frame lies hopelessly in vain…

Therefore, I am indeed a prisoner, who hath doth no crime, save perhaps unknowingly let a malaise within,

And as my corporeal frame begins to slumber, I submit to its ministrations and let it take me away, as my mental self sails the seas, with the Phoenician traders of tin..