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: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Demar Desu
Offline)
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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