Bonds, ties, other heartless, broken lies,

Time quickly dies and they who cries.

Those who sit within the metaphorical box,

Seem some what unorthadox.

To those such as me who fly free,

outside the box quite definatly.

Each and every line I write,

every other timeless flight.

A flow of words,

Like a congregation of beautiful birds.

My soul drags deep into the words I write,

my mind won’t break free without a fight.

My day draws to a close,

I fall asleep, as though I’m froze.

The poison stops temporarily,

Like it’s bound with a lock key.

The fluid dark, a return it will make,

Upon the time I quickly wake.