Illusionary Road

Is this the road less traveled--
where the day awakens to an alarm of a cell call
to shackle a prisoner to be led?

Wrists bound while others have bled
Can there be such a road where we can be free with all--
Is this the road less traveled,

Mr. Frost? No silver coins under my lead bed
Perchance to dream on Elysium fields encased in a lead ball,
shackled to a prisoner to be led.

Postcards sent from the cliff's edge,
Solaced by winged words that lit my dimming candle
on this, the road less traveled.

Be my light, Be my night, You who traveled--

Shine on my darkest days when I wake only to grovel;
Shackle me like a prisoner to be led.

Deep into the realms of worlds you as Guide discovered,
Be thou the solemn worldly rest to break down this wall
to walk this road less traveled--
Unshackled prisoner to be led.

________________

Meus Otium:

I have always pondered about this road of life we are bound to walk on- but with its calling to live a life of unexpected twists and turns that often has more suffering than happiness (my personal opinion).  This process includes questioning the foundation of what is important- the belief in God , in oneself  and in others. What are the meaning in these things? We pave our lives with what we call "concrete" things but they are not real--are they? Though one directs the path they choose to walk on, there is still an element of being bound to it which to me brings a philosophical challenge to man's ultimate freedom. 

Villanelle much like haiku depend on the word choice to enrich a poem.  I began this poem in the night thinking about Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken."  After having read it, I was meditating on the last lines "I took the one less traveled by," and wrote the first stanza with a feeling that we are bound to walk the road no matter which one we take, much like Sisyphus condemned to roll a rock uphill for eternity  We don't really have a choice in our birth (again another inherent supposition) but the rights we are bestowed are all questionable (by other minds)-- the road seems bleak to me, except of this singular reassurance I feel about poetry.  I think this is how I came up with a word that binds or imprisons and this alliteration of chains rattling as one walked would deliver the sentiment.  The repetition of - "shackle" in its various forms gives a progressive walk as if chains were dragging behind. 

This poem,  gives homage to what I call my prophets for they were more than voices to words  they have written .   There are various references I made to this have become the ultimate "Guide" because they have literally walked the walk.  "Elysium fields" homage to Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Perchance[to dream]" by Shakespeare, "Guide" by Milton and "Postcards from the edge" -- the "Postcard" series by Radinoti and "Wrists bound while others have bled," is in reference to:  Berryman,  Sexton, Plath, Crane (wrists have bled) and Dylan Thomas and Elizabeth Bishop in their own battle within their weakness.