The Prison of Life
I stand on knives
Looking around
All I see
Is pain abound
The walls are lined with broken blades
Jagged is the floor of nails
I look up and see the moon
The ceiling of this hateful room
The beauty, it brings me to tears
I climb the walls for many years
Finally, I reach the top
My blood I have just one last drop
I stand up to embrace my goal
And find, I have not moved at all.
Copyright © Michael Duvall | Year Posted 2019
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