A cold and shackled figure,
Hardly a husk of what once would be,
In the mirror it reflects a creature,
No human would ever care to see.

So distant from all other life,
The isolation has become a defense,
From the twisted world of the living,
So filled with overwhelming strife.

Standing solemn, eyes cast to the dirt,
Shackles secured firmly to the rock,
The birds surround his prison to mock,
The exiled being, and his surrender to suffering.

Alas, with frantic flapping they depart,
A gentle hand presses to the imprisoned heart,
The chains turn to sand and drop him free,
Eyes gazing up to his savior to be.

With stars for eyes, and the cosmos for hair,
How did his troubles turn her to care,
As she came down from her heavenly realm,
To bless such a meager, humble life?

He rose to his feet and without thought, mirrored her,
His hand, to her heart,
"This heart is yours, and yours to keep,
Hold it ever close and find love, limitless and deep."