cages of canaries

have these been years of pent up energy?
years waiting for a fence to clear,
to escape this circle of sharp carved lanes?

pace marked into the ground's face,
a rough indentation as such to erase.

solution to this crease,
to erase a cut so deep -
you'll have to dig.
deeper into indentation,
erase the mark on foundation
on which you stand.
the lines hollow out long rivers in this land.

it's irreversible, you've cursed it all.

blame to fall upon the creator of the cut,
the creature of the carve, the demon of the deep.
unleashing terror, feverish and sweet.
a panic mode he knows, scratching deeper at throats,
the root of this problem.
the root of all evil.

a cut in the ground,
ashes were found,
deep in the cuts and the creases.
a grave built on emotional pieces.

fingernails tearing up ground,
underneath settled dirt is the sound
of canaries.

a scream for release,
lungs collapse in the cave of the beast.

trapped in locked cages,
creatures no longer live.
with creatures no longer alive.

bones in the bottom-
dug out tombs forgotten,
endless hallways of tunneled out black.

the walls bear a similar mark -
to trap beauty alone in the dark.
the canary's last cries call out sharp.

an iron fall to the floor,
eyes fixed on the cage door -
a last hope lost on opening.

a hundred sets of wings never set free,
only a monster could do this to me.