My intentions were to help, his to hurt.
My purpose was to give, his to take.
I aimed to grant mercy, he to grant pain,
he parceled it out over and over again.
Once again I gave of myself as in the past,
But this time is my last.
This repetition has worn bare the treads of my soul
And mangled my mind in ways only God can behold.
I was the warden filled with good intentions until the end.
My kindness the bars that caged him within.
The key the over and over again.
I will unlock the door that we both may go free.
I was a prisoner as much as he.
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