Patience

I'm drawn by the flame that flickers inside,
But I can't play the game when my hands are still tied.

The rope that was used to tighten the grip,
Is roughened and sharp so it hurts when I slip.

My dear, when they touched me their hands were so cold,
But it's always been warm til the secrets unfold.

I long for the freedom from these old restraints,
To discover the devils and rise with the saints.

You press yourself against me in the hope I'll hold you back,
But my back's still flat and I can feel myself about to crack.

My wrists are still bleeding where I've fought the ties,
And even my healing shows scars won't subside.

I can only try to free myself before I crash and burn,
And one day when you hold my hand I'll hold it in return.

XxX