Fire flames.
Barbs of steel.
Barrier of glass.
A cube.
This cube.
Will this be my last?
Inner rage.
Slithering in spirit.
Restraints: rectangle or octagon?
This is my fortress.
A love of word in print.
A wish you find malevolent.
Inside this hidden cabin I have built.
Brought down by words as they are spilt.
No longer to shock or amaze.
Spreading daze behind this haze.
No guard or beast keeps me here.
Only shivering alone.
Soaked in fear.
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