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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Again unedited so forgive me, it just came about from my experiences.

Submitted: February 15, 2011

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Submitted: February 15, 2011



He was no innocent,
But had committed no crime upon anyone
Only himself
Even though the cage was open
He could not leave,
Hesitant in the shadows of his encloseur
He felt safe
Though is captore had set him free
His body and soul was encarcerated within itself
Unsure of what waited for him or what did not
Unconcerned with reason
He had always been a loner
But had never flet alone
Now he did
Not knowing even himself
No idea of what he now was
Only that he was naked and bare
There had been no rehabilitation
Feeling the ice cold wind on his skin
Did not bother him at all,
He was far more desolate inside his own wilderness
His hunger for her,
His jailer,
His teacher,
Contorted him,
He knew he had the strength to endure
The wisdom of silence that could not be cracked
The solitude and sancturay of his mind could not be breached
Yet he was montionless
Stare fixed on the gaping cell door
She had set him free
But sentenced his soul
That was the condition of his mortal parole
He had agreed her terms
Bitter now,
He knew he had to get up,
Get out
This tomb would be used by someone else
That did not concern him
His focus now was on his next step
The step after that
His rage at abandoment welled within
He knew he had to surpress this,
Smother it, hide it
Stumbling into the light
He knew he would be in eternal darkness
But yet he smiled.

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