Floetry From the Heart

  At the core, there is a locked door, rusted with corrosion and pliate, forgotten and guarded  At the core, inside a plane of scares and pain that surpasses the infinite boundaries of all A place where vulnerability is present and protected behind the chain mail veil and walls of concrete.  Where pain of the past is subjected to a type of diabolical betrayal that resonates in her present that she cannot seem to escape from being both prisoner and jailer Her god if you will, the one thing shes worshiped of the flesh feeds to partake and devour, while her pain takes in and enjoys. So her spirits cry's, and are steps aside to appease and abide by the gory feast the flesh may have won the battle, turning all else into the compliant cattle but the Spirit,the spirit is just waiting for her time to rise again and win the war at the core, of her deep within.