Check my book, please - https://www.amazon.com/Surreal-Sketches-Madness-illustrated-illustrations-ebook/dp/B0CBZC6FJ3/ref=sr_1_3?qid=1693680068&refinements=p_27%3AAleksandr+Erichev&s=digital-text&sr=1-3&text=Aleksandr+Erichev

This art was drawn by me many years ago, on textured paper, HB and B6 pencils, then black ink.

In chambers dark where vice is spun,
Where mortals bask in deeds ill-done,
There lie the chains, both thick and thin,
That bind the soul in webs of sin.

Yet hear me well, ye pious few,
Who claim your hearts are just and true,
For chains, not merely wrought in vice,
Do also saintly souls entice.

With links of pride, and loops of scorn,
Are holy men and women shorn
Of virtue pure and conscience clear;
No soul escapes, let that be clear.

The sage entangled in his thought,
By webs of arrogance is caught.
The priest, who prays with fervent zeal,
Finds bigotry oft turns the wheel.

Not just in dens of sin we roam,
But also in a sacred home,
These chains do coil and intertwine
Around all souls, both yours and mine.

Invisible, yet felt by all,
They pull us back, don't let us crawl
Towards the light, the path of grace;
These chains are hard to see and face.

But ere you think all hope is lost,
And pondering the horrid cost,
Know this, my friend, though hard to break,
Your chains need not your soul forsake.

For in the struggle and the strife,
Is found the very key to life.
To strive, to fight, to gnash and tear,
Is how one conquers deep despair.

The chains may never fully break,
But strength of will's no mere mistake.
For even bound, our spirits soar;
We fight the chains forevermore.