The Cell

Alone I sit in the dark,

Cold, broken, torn apart.

Shackled to a wall of fears,

Tied down by my own tears.

My voice stuck deep in my throat,

I reach to grasps the words that choke,

I look at the oblivion right before me,

Wondering if I will tell my story.


Maybe not today, not even tonight

May I will when I can see the light.

The light of the flame that burns withing,

The one that life wants to extinguish. 

The fire that I try to kindle,

With memories, and smiles that dwindle.

I'm afraid that I am alone here in the dark,

A shadow of myself with nowhere to start.


I sit alone, chained in the dark,

Listening to the sound of my beating heart.

I open my hand, and pray for life,

For hope, a new day, a dissapearing plight.

A warmth blossoms in my heart,

A story begins, a new start.

The feeling spreads through my healing body,

I am no shadow, I am not a nobody.


I open my eyes to see a small blue falme,

Dancing in my hand like miniature dame.

Fragile, and small it softly glows,

From it a warmth softly flows.

I look around to see the words written,

My fears, my tears, my own definitions.


I stare at the flame that is my hope,

An struggle, and pull against the rope.

I find no success, and the light flickers,

I find my voice and let out a whimper.

I won't let it die, the flame is alive,

I must fight till the day I die.


I pull at my shackles,

I built them from shame.

I break through my bonds,

Of the tears that I've lost.

I pull away from it all,

I refese to give in,

I refuese to fall.

I stare at the flame,

Tiny and blue,

Let it lead me,

To what, where,

To who?

This poem is about: 


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