Chains…
A horror of captivity, the captive’s hand forcing me down
I am falling, scared to cry, numb to pain—
It’s been too long
His hands scatter like sea gulls over the restless ocean…
No, my body…unwanted pleasure searing—
Nowhere to hide, no one to hear, no one to know.

Captivity…
I’ve been sold for nothing—
I was no worse than others, actually trying my best
Yet completely lost in trying
Somehow the captor seduced me
But I was hoping for glory and love,
Instead I have this:
The dust is my dwelling place:
My face is caked in it from the time I was able to cry
No tears now…

Hope…
There is always a hope of a mistake from the captor…
Maybe he will get tired of me?
I am only a woman, plain from abuse.
No, hope is in the Creator—
For nothing I’ve been sold
I will be redeemed without money.

Freedom…
A sweetness of the fresh air, rolling emerald hills:
I am walking, colorful robe covers my body,
A robe that belongs to virgins…
How is it possible?
Past is forgotten, erased without a trace
A king extends his loving arms…

Love…
Intoxicates me with purity, passion.
I am in his arms forever.

PS. Shake thyself from the dust;
arise, and sit down, O Jerusalem:
loose thyself from the bands of thy neck,
O captive daughter of Zion.

For thus saith the Lord,
Ye have sold yourselves for nought;
and ye shall be redeemed without money.
Isaiah 52:2-3 KJV

05-21-2013

Alexander Manhanaim

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