The Wooden Box

The Wooden Box

Fear holds me with care
Within its cobwebbed
Wooden binds

So sorrowfully
Soil-bound
The scalding death
I reap, with festering dread

I course
With cold despair
Bound and gagged
Lusting, to emerge restored

So pitiful
I drown with ease
In newfound squalor
Rancid, with life-long regret

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loftydreams101's

Keeping the world immersed in stanza.