Swaddled in these loving chains
I find it hard to move.
The links weigh down my every breath
And chafe against my skin.
Where once they gleamed they now corrode
And I am tarnished too.
Why won't I raise my fisted hand
And use the key within?
Cherished by this chainmail mask
I find it hard to see.
The links occlude my senses
and I can't tell where I've been
Where once they offered safety
they proscribe reality.
I'd like to raise my fisted hand
and use the key within.
Chastened by this cleansing blade
I find release in pain.
The scars adorn my living flesh
as payment for my sin.
But soon the turmoil does return
and I must cut again.
I'll never raise my fisted hand
and use the key within.
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