What is the good

What is the good

In holding on

Even as a grip is questioned

There is an

Instinctive tightening

A death's hand

Locked into the fear

Of letting go

Not for its own sake

More as an allowance

Of its meaning

To others

Which is what we tell ourselves

As the black maw opens

Before snapping shut

Once more

What would Ariel make

Of this tempest

In a teacup

Bring out the truth

Of lost things

Unhinge the cellar door

Step into the shadow

Lurking beneath

The stone floor

Pace the worn flags

Back and forth

Wear out the excuses

We have made

As the furrow deepens

Further reducing

The option of escape

Plot a course

To safety

If you can

It is in the recognition

Of such an eventuality

That you will find

The makings of

Your freedom

Trust me

I am the keeper

Of your promise.