I lived in my home
As a prisoner
Without any crime.
No guns, no torture—
Just breathing, just surviving.
Being a loner,
I usually knew how to emphasize:
I wasn’t a prisoner, but a ghost
Whose soul never found a place
To feel satisfied.
In spite of remaining in quest for so long,
I know my era will come.
The wait will end;
I will be free one night.
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Author:
Shriya Tiwari (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 11th, 2025 02:19
- Comment from author about the poem: A glimpse into the quiet isolation of a soul waiting for freedom. Sometimes invisible, often overlooked, yet holding onto the hope that one night, release will come.\r\n
- Category: Sad
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Demar Desu - 德马尔·德苏
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Comments3
According to Pope hope springs eternal and so they say is the last thing to die. It is voiced here in this poem that comes from a dark place.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment. I’m glad you noticed the thread of hope in the poem. Even though it comes from a dark and lonely place, I wanted to capture that feeling that, no matter how long the struggle, there’s still a belief that freedom and peace can eventually come. Your connection to Pope’s line resonates perfectly — hope really is what keeps us moving forward, even in the shadows.
You are most welcome
A sad and dark write yet with a touch of positivity, through all the trials and tribulations thay hang onto hope, that one day freedom will come, I hope it does. Well written
Thank you so much for your kind words. You understood the heart of the poem perfectly — it’s born from sadness and confinement, but still clings to that faint light of hope. I truly appreciate your wish for freedom; it means a lot.
Your very welcome
What is freedom?
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