MY OWN INFERNO

I've grown accustomed to the rack.
Once painful stretching of limbs
Now has only a familiar tug.
It's amazing what we can learn to tolerate.

My torturers are not unknown strangers
But familiar old acquaintances.
Expectation, the handmaid of Responsibility,
Guides their eager efforts.

Enterprise, at my right hand, sits silent to his task.
He does not suit me well as companion,
But supports me in my hour of need
And relishes not my strain.

On the left hand is Joy, whose pull is strong,
Gently whispering of phantom fields of ecstasy.
If I could loose my other bonds,
I'd follow her wherever she willed.

At my feet are those whose work is worst.
I see them now before me and I shudder--
The Creators on the right side,
Amity on the left.

The former encourage Enterprise to call to me.
Plaintively they goad him on,
Yet stubbornly he sets his lip and will not speak.
Theirs is the strength of disappointment.

Amity, I fear the most. Its ruby lips belie
The fangs that wait to strike at an open vein,
Its bite draining respect and fair regard.
The sweetest face hides the cruelest of torments.

Each of these captors I accepted willingly,
Choosing not to see their full intents.
I fastened my own chains with eagerness to please,
Then one by one they tightened round heel and wrist.

Now numb, I feel the pangs no more.
Distended, I hear the rush of time's car passing,
Thus dully waiting out the day
As an effigy of humankind.