As the rusty cabins where the soul is held
Gripped and chained like breathless birds
A voice that seems choked and dry
Tries to scream out its words, heavy, but creaked.
As the solemn woods dark and deep
Lay unearthed in the wet soil
The creek sounds of the beetles and hoppers
Streak through the silence in the darkened mellow.
As silence engulfs and suffocates the ears
The creaks that are feeble are heard in fear
Those arms try to break the chains
And burst out into the world of ignorance.
A streak of hope within the soul
That is left empty to be filled in full
There are faces that hide behind armours
Those seem strong and rigid but are just false masks.
The darkness has now swallowed up the ray
And made the vision black and none
The senses are open like alert alarms
But there are confused strings that chain the soul tight.
