Bound In Rising

I must say,
I m slightly troubled
That my full-winged ascent
To greater heights
Than these,
Is right now hindered
By your gentle chains.

Might I, perhaps,
Remove these rusty rings
From my raw ankles?
I mean no offense,
But they bleed and blister
Something awful.

I would be obliged, as well,
If you would kindly
Untie the cutting cords
That bind my swollen wrists.
In truth, I don t mind them much,
But they do make flying difficult,
And a bit unbalanced.

Are those nails you hammer
Through my quivering new wings?
I will admit, I m not terribly
Fond of the idea,
But I ll not fuss.
Only, I do hope
They ve been sanitized.