The Final Rebirth

For years I lay trapped

Behind those cold, emotionless bars.

Like a seed, buried deep in the earth

Waiting to touch the sky.

Prison was my soil

Cold,colourless and cruel

Every night I would stare at the ceiling and imagine

What life would be like on the surface.

As my sentence slowly dwindled away,

My roots spread wide, a small shoot delicately forming,

The soil ensnaring me slowly cracking,

All that was left was the matter of a step.

The gates swung open,

The sunlight embracing me,

The cover that encompassed me had broken,

But I was only a seedling, rooted to the ground.

I would always dream of reaching the great beyond

While being shackled within four walls.

Being held down by my past mistakes

Like Atlas holding up the endless sky.

For years I believed that no seed could sprout again,

The weight of the sins of my past

Pressing down on me like dark, heavy soil,

Extinguishing every hope of a new beginning.

My scars were never truly holding me back,

They were the openings through which sunlight peeked in,

The marks that helped me grow,

Each one proving to me that life can be brought back; better.

My past was not etched in stone,

It was a dark cloud, watching my every move,

Waiting for the right time to strike,

It was up to me how I would enter the light.

I stood at the crossroads of my life, staring intensely,

One path leading back to the dark cell I came from,

The other to a sunlit field, surrounded by others of my kind,

And with trembling roots, I broke through the soil, stepping forward into the unknown.

-Vivaan Balvally