Unfinished

Locked doors, narrow cages, chained up ankles.

Shackles ring and the key dangles.

Limited space for breathing, old greyish walls.

You ran as I had to take the fall.

My panic room is faded, it’s plain and sombre.

I’m bound until the next October.

No windows to check the passage of stolen time.

You stole theirs, you stole mine.

But they can’t break me out of our deadly vow.

Fear is only the king to thee who bow.