Emotions are jailers of the most sadistic kind for
they show no mercy.
We lie imprisoned and helpless in a bare, dark jail
filled with inexplicable feelings,
where the leftovers from tenderness and desire lie scattered amidst the thick grey dust of unfulfilled daydreams.
These wardens use the hob-nailed heels of their boots to grind hurt deep into the still stinging wounds inflicted by many lost loves.
They randomly throw thin, dry scraps of hope that cannot satisfy even the weakest pang.
Logic sits trapped behind black metal bars
of misguided intuition.
Intelligence is roughly taken hostage and weeps quietly, head bowed.
Sweet reason rests quietly now, subdued by a far greater force.
Faint echoes of laughter from unilateral love
drift in from the back room
where the hostage takers drink whisky and play cards triumphantly, secure in the knowledge that the key is so deeply hidden it cannot easily be found.