Trapped

Little do I know of rat-traps and nets,
but feeling trapped is only human.
A part of you caught naked,
and yet you're cast of still steel.
The heart thumps loud underneath,
but of what use is its presence?
When judgement needs but intellect,
a tiny flutter undoes the knot.
You're still tied to a mirage
but then the heart is silent.
Ruthless and cold, the silence.