Closed doors with locks bolted shut
Cold and dreary reeks from it
The sun and nature attempt to bring life
But the dark abyss reflects it back
No light, no warmth, no hope for good
There is no good
Expecting the bitter ice is what is needed
Strangling back the light that so badly wants to shine through
Will this cold, dreary realm ever let up?
Or will the chains break and release what’s inside?