Bondage

A scrape then what will appear through its gate? An impulse through the primal fabrication enough of fate, In temporal dwellings a pull away from what is ordinary Then vanquished amidst the pride on its temptress A tug at the heart will light an inner spark to what it was Shelter lies dormant amidst its beckoning call asunder Bondage To allude its prefix amidst the target You have all turned your backs on truth Instead in its place you have fully erected idols to honor your dead Bondage In days of lament an impulse caressed its timeless vent You are a carrier of heartache amidst its spoil In carnal days of false promises Bondage