Gilded Cage

Joy dies in a gilded cage, pacing in her imprisonment until she collapses.

Agony grows from Joy’s rot, his body grown contorted and monstrous.

Inside my chest, Agony screams. He begs that we end our suffering.

In our attempt to fly free, the confines of the cage shrink.

You notice the cramped conditions of my capture and your solution is not to release but to mutilate.

The small of my back from where you tore out my wings aches,

Lightning strikes of pain jolt through my body,

But no hurt compares to the blood boiling under my skin.

The wound kills Agony, but Wrath grows from his remains with ferocious determination in her eyes.

With her help, I stand and glare through the iron bars of our prison.

Acidic words drip from my tongue, Wrath’s voice becoming my own, and I pray our fury burns.

Behold my misery, you wretched thing.

Marvel at your horrific work.

Meet my eyes and the raging wildfires they contain.

If you haven’t started already, run.

This cage will not last much longer.