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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1335713-Playing-with-the-innocent
by ninju
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1335713
Men arealways prisoners, but what can this imprisonent do to them?
All I could see was the darkness around, and my life until then in my mind’s eye
I dreamt of the life I had before now, I dreamt of a future before I die
Within these walls that’s all a man could do, dream his life as it was or will be
For in darkness and despair when sorrow fills your heart, that’s all men can often see
Around me people die or are craving for death,
Madness engulfing sanity from their hearts,
I close my eyes to wish for a day, sometime,
When happiness will come with insanity in me,
For torture it is to die a slow death,
Alone, within walls, with none beside your bed,
Not of pain or hurt, of yourself,
But a slow torture of the soul,
Within it once there was warmth and love,
Within it was a man, a being, humane,
Now there is but hatred in my mind,
To punish those who make me live this game of hell,
And so I live, an innocent when I came,
To return to the world, to avenge all those who played.
© Copyright 2007 ninju (ninju at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1335713-Playing-with-the-innocent