Freedom Costs
Past decade decayed in a mist of crimson
Last barricade barraged to escape this prison
The Shades of grey flow through my faulty prism
Light betrays - plain sight - guards march me back to my chasm
Cleaning crew - white suits - red spatter
Leaning cruelly towards me - empty eyes - soulless laughter
No body
Chains hold me
Cold so coldly
Copyright © Connor Mcgree | Year Posted 2011
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