Walls.

I can see paradise, between blurred lines. Giving submission to an unclear disposition. The thought burns my eyes, like sipping liquor slowly. Let the hope run through my veins. Sedating all my pain. Once a prisoner in my own hell. Condemning myself a recluse, to never leave the solitude of my brain that became my cell. Trapped inside the contents of my mind. A dark, desolate place sunlight could never find. Like lonely cries from a wolf whose too soon to howl at the moon. He stands alone. A leader wounded from damaged pride. You can scar a warrior but a warrior never dies.