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Shackled

Shackled, shackled is how I felt. My freedom was ripped from within me. Those carefree days felt like centuries ago. The chains which enslaved me drew tighter and I could feel my soul depart from my body. My heart raced to fill my arteries with blood. My face bleaker than the snow on which I sat. I could feel the angel of death lingering. All I could focus on was the thud of his heart as he drew nearer to me.

Fear, anxiety, anger, sadness all filled my mind. My thoughts were no longer my own as those shackles which enslaved me changed the view I had in life. As my eyes drew weary and as my blinking got heavier I squinted into the distance, beyond the angel of death, I looked right through him. There in the distance stood people I think I knew. Who were they? It felt as though my heart yearned to be with them. It felt as though that void within my soul loved them. But I had no recall of who they were.

Those shackles which held me chained tightened, my limbs bruised by them. I could feel my bones beginning to crack as the chains tore open my flesh.

Just then I remembered. I remembered who they were. I began to remember who I was. I took a deep breath into my lungs. I felt my energy returning. My soul began to feel lighter. The chains loosened from my skin. My heart pounded harder and my arteries were now filled with hope. I got to my feet and left that place. The angel of death departed too. I was no longer shackled. My captors looked bewildered. “How did he manage to break free”, they began questioning.

The balance was off. I became a slave of my job. My captors were those whipping the beast. And as I spent more time shackled there those whom I loved drifted from me. But now, as I break free from these chains, I leave not my job but I gain foresight to balance my life better. I have missed the years my son had grown. I have missed the years my husband got greyer. I missed too the wrinkles which formed on my face. It’s been so long, so long that I was shackled, death was at my door step, but I had the courage to rise, to resurrect from those who had enslaved me.

And now, now as I embrace them once again, I see so many, so many who are shackled as I was. Those who die chasing the wind of wanting more. Those who are never satisfied. But I, I have found that joy again. It was never in the flashy car, nor the big house. It was in the little blessings. Those little gifts which can’t be bought. The smile on my husbands face. The laugh my son gives when I tell a really terrible joke. I am no longer a slave, I am free.

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