The chain was long,
And hung heavily
From his neck.

Still, he cherished it.
How couldn’t he?
He had forged it himself.

Day after day,
Year after year,
Each and every link
Carefully crafted.

He had fancy names
For each and every one of them.
Honor, custom, tradition.
Deep sounding names.

He recited them
Every waking hour,
Trying to drown out
The voice within his head.

That awful voice,
So calm and centered,
That kept repeating
A single word.

The chain kept growing,
Longer, bigger, stronger.
The same calm voice
Kept chanting the same word.

Like a secret mantra,
Forcing him to face
The truth behind
His self-important lies.

A single word
Forever forcing him
To face himself…
To hate himself.

Over and over
To the braking point.
A single drop of acid
Burning off the chain.

Rigid…