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ㅤㅤ ㅤTHE PR!SON I CREATE
ㅤㅤNo bars are keeping me in, there is no door without a key in. All the lights are on without a flicker or dim, my soul free to wander out or in. And yet I stay frozen to one spot, unable to get past the lock that is not. I sit and stare at my love's fading smile, trapped in the memory of when I could hold her for a while. I curse myself and my internal latch that I cannot get loose from this imaginary catch. My hands are sore, my eyes are weak, my internal light ever-growing darker and bleak. The man I once was becoming a ghost in time, locked behind this illusion of mine. Gone are days when life was a dream to catch, why can I not get past this imaginary latch.
ㅤㅤThere are no bars, there is no steel, why does my mind command me to kneel? I have no words, only hate, inside this prison I do create. I scratch a marking on the wall, to remind me I must obey or face the fall. And fall I do, further still, into this invisible pit, I created by the freedom of my own free will. The hangman's noose so appealing, But today is not my time; I remain for the true love of mine. No illusionist trick, nor jailer's whip, will see me lose my iron-like grip. So I will go on inside my imaginary jail, and yes, there will be a time that I shall prevail.
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ ㅤTHE PR!SON I CREATE
ㅤㅤNo bars are keeping me in, there is no door without a key in. All the lights are on without a flicker or dim, my soul free to wander out or in. And yet I stay frozen to one spot, unable to get past the lock that is not. I sit and stare at my love's fading smile, trapped in the memory of when I could hold her for a while. I curse myself and my internal latch that I cannot get loose from this imaginary catch. My hands are sore, my eyes are weak, my internal light ever-growing darker and bleak. The man I once was becoming a ghost in time, locked behind this illusion of mine. Gone are days when life was a dream to catch, why can I not get past this imaginary latch.
ㅤㅤThere are no bars, there is no steel, why does my mind command me to kneel? I have no words, only hate, inside this prison I do create. I scratch a marking on the wall, to remind me I must obey or face the fall. And fall I do, further still, into this invisible pit, I created by the freedom of my own free will. The hangman's noose so appealing, But today is not my time; I remain for the true love of mine. No illusionist trick, nor jailer's whip, will see me lose my iron-like grip. So I will go on inside my imaginary jail, and yes, there will be a time that I shall prevail.
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