The shackles were like hands cold as black ice
Holding me in its steel prisoning grip
For I had been cast away more than twice
The floors were icy in hell I would slip
My story began with the seed of lust
The feeling, the rush was none to be known
For I craved the feeling, have it I must
The path would crumble it was made of stone
And I danced so hard it began to chip
It was dark there without the lights to shine
The angles they found me, my wings they clip
Because of a girl that was never mine
I sat in hells cell and there I would rot
I never regretted the lesson taught
Not sure if I did this right, it's in the rhyme scheme pattern of ABAB CDCD EFEF GG, and 10 syllables per line, written in iambic pentameter (duh, DUH,duh,DUH, duh, DUH, duh, DUH, duh, DUH)