Every story has a beginning, a part that's hard to tell. Withholding chapters to ourselves, some hide within a shell.  

Beside the tree of Contempt, and the valley of Tomorrow. I cried a lake that is so deep, just from tears of sorrow.

Poisoned from secrets left on lips, doomed to never part. Men place a hand upon my chest, and think that I've no heart.

What I hide within is heavy, yet I pray on bended knee. Underneath a sky so vast, it robbed so much of me.

Of nails and gravel I was made, a result of pain and fear. Stuck within this armor,  always unable to let them near.