Prison in our creating

We are the slave of our statue,Live in the prison of our own creating, Lost in the sands of time, Shackled by the boundaries of thy mind. A past I can so plainly see. A memory i can clearly remember where the rest fall so blindly. As I rise and take a knee I pray silently, set thee free. If I address but this single plea. Think of what life could be. Whisper to the depth of thine heart. Where secrets crumble the lies apart. Stitch the void left in the wake. A broken foundation that should never shake. How blindly I see clearer than most. The blessed hand delt by this host. Yet still I plea to be set free. Free from struggles, free from pains of the past, free for offense not comitted, yet i still plea to be set free.

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