Immured

Now, seeming self-assured

We disappear, immured;

‘Mid walls that hold the toxins from

Which we cannot be cured

 

A world kept under wraps:

Each hidden lie and lapse —

For much we think we want, we dont,

As castles can

Be traps

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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