A tortured soul is locked with no key,

The end of the tunnel looks dark and bleak.

Merely sitting without movement or light,

The soul rots away with despair and strife.

Slowly but surely the spirit begins to die,

The light gently fading into the obscure abyss.

What is in the void with no illumination?

Is it hopeless, does it have no escape of torture?

To sever the ties of a rope or to break the chains,

Relies on inner strength and pain.

The rope burns and bruises may not forever stay,

They heal with time, the time to fly (away).