Hidden worlds. Mysterious places that I have never experienced. Vibrant colors, in various shades and hues and shapes go unnoticed. Cries of strange creatures in their fur or feathers or scales are never heard. The scent of the unknown has not teased my senses. I have never felt the wind caress my face like a childhood friend or like a foreign lover. I have never been allowed the privilege of freedom’s sweet taste.
I am locked away. Stone, stolen away from the warm earth, and wood, dead so long it cannot even remember how its roots twisted in the dirt, are welded together creating a seamless prison. There is only one reprieve from the desolation of the gray rock and faded wood.
There is a portal that lets me glimpse a place that is was not created to imprison me. I have pressed myself against its clear surface day after day, hoping to escape this tower and go there, but it never works.
In a way that is the greatest frustration of all. To know that there are new possibilities and sights and sounds, but to never experience them. Trapped in a cage that taunts me with what I cannot have. Yearning for something I cannot reach.