Untamed | The Awakening of a Caged Spirit

For much of my life, I walked through the world wearing invisible chains—trained to believe they were part of me. Like many, I was taught how to think, what to fear, and who to become before I ever had the chance to discover myself. This piece is a reclamation. It’s a poetic reflection on the quiet, calculated ways society conditions us to abandon our wild, instinctive nature—and the liberation that begins the moment we remember who we truly are. It’s for the ones awakening, unlearning, and returning to their power…It’s for you.

I am animal—
Not by force, but by birthright.
Flesh and fire.
Instinct and intuition.
But before I could name my nature,
You named it for me.

You said:
“You are wild—too wild.
For your safety, for ours,
You must be softened, subdued…
Caged.”

But no bars.
No whips.
No overt tyranny.
Your chains were velvet-lined.
Elegant.
Invisible.
Masterfully designed for the mind.

You—clever creature—
Knew that steel bars might stir rebellion,
So you chose refinement.
Sophistication.
Deception.

You handed my parents a script.
They read it aloud with love and pride:
“She must learn the rules,
Obey the laws,
Fear the unknown,
Worship the sky.”

School taught me which truths to value.
Church promised heaven if I stayed in line.
And you—
Oh, you hid behind every pulpit, every pledge,
Every carefully-constructed “should.”

You wove a fog thick enough
To make me forget
That I was born connected—
To the earth,
To myself,
To all.

You had us all dancing in your dream,
Tethered by thoughts not our own,
Echoing narratives
That kept us compliant,
Convenient,
Contained.

But now—
Now I see.

You, with your doctrine of fear,
Fed it to me in stories and silence,
In warnings whispered
Between lullabies.

But I have learned your alchemy:
Fear is your fortress.
And love—
Love is the key.

Each time I choose truth over terror,
A shackle slips.
Each breath into presence
Breaks a link in your illusion.

And you—
Oh, you shrink
As I rise.

Now, I roam wide fields of being,
Vast, ungoverned terrain
Where consciousness runs free,
And the soul remembers
She was never meant to be small.

You tried to claim dominion over my mind.
But I am stardust wrapped in skin—
Unruly, infinite, divine.
I was never yours to keep.

The game is over.
The mirror has cracked.
And in its shards, I see myself—
Untamed.
Unbound.
Unbreakable.

Cynthia A. Murungi

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