The three

from whom you wake.

Seven ages, 
irrevocably set,
stage not even
in focus yet.

Helices spun, 
the ropey artisan
twists the whole
dramatic structure.

Frayed string,
and knots,
inaccurate measures,
a life of misery / pleasure.

Unturnable, the
decision’s done.
A flickering lightbulb,
borderline blown.

Awaken from these
nightmare three,
wiping eyes,
are you free?