The Iron Cord

Something has forged an iron cord,
Wrapping it down my central spirit
Inside my body, this weak flesh,
Corrupt as each moment seeps by,
This cord, iron of steel, strength,
It binds my hands, holding me
In its grasp, keeping me from death,
My mouth extended to its fullest,
Echoes my frustration and anger,
My screams, my pleading, my groans,
To be redeemed from this pit of Hell,
The sickness and excrement of this Hades,
I have hold of the rope to safety,
The strength of this iron cord
Holds me to this rope, my hands burn,
The talons of demons dig into my legs,
Pulling me down, fighting I will die.

About Daniel Silas
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