Love Is A Prisoner

~ Love Is A Prisoner ~

There’s a place I never go,

Deep down, 

In the darkest vault

Of my heart.   

A cell

Where air does not stir

And light is a stranger.

Sound doesn’t echo, 

But is swallowed by shadows.

Behind doors of burnt copper

At the end of a passage

Haunted by shrouds, 

And a corridor filled with dust.

Love is a prisoner.

Memories of you, 

Locked in that chamber, 

Starving to death,

Fed scraps of failed hopes

And crumbs fallen from dreams.

~ John Leslie Lange ~