Chains Poem by Inger Jansen

They wrote about me,
As one of the most notorious and chilling death peddlars the country has ever seen.
They spoke about me. In hushed tones.

Every day I wake in chains,
I wash in chains I walk in chains
I even pray in chains.

To a sky so far removed and a God I believe in; while nobody believes in me.

I am getting older now.
Every pain I feel, I fear it is Death, her gentle reminders.
We have grown so much closer, with Time.

One day she will see me freed from these chains.