Bound by love and fear, the thorns piercing the soul as if emptiness exist. Where in darkness does life lay as I fight this internal beast eating at my soul. Dying not an option it lingers in mind trouble. Where is it to which bondage does not hold but deep feelings I have no control. Only being I am, in anger but love I'm fond. But do my presence have meaning or am I just being. Being a part of my own heart's prison, l dare to bleed but seek oneself. This darkness I must conquer even within this shield I surround. A rose and its beauty of elegance with pedals of devine extreme. A stem of life and meaning grows but season and weathers. Tare not that it survives and not die as times endless presence I live. But cut free and water that its love may blossom and grow. But take care for only seasons come and go it feels. Only the warmth of love does passion have meaning. But thorns of life rip, leaving you bleeding.