Slave to Self

Somehow I've wandered back here.

No, I sought it out-

This place that was once my prison. 

Twenty years in a solitary cell in the center of a vast wilderness. Brought repeatedly to the point where I was sure (hoped) I’d die, only to be revived with a new poison.

But I was set free.

And here I am. Kneeling in that filth. And I’m trying desperately to force the shackles back over my wrists. Bonds that have been burst apart forever.

And I hear his voice.

“Why have you come back?”

And there’s not a hint of accusation in it.