Silence creeping through hearts stirring, walking, where and why in the garden of nowhere...
Prison walls hold a criminal in why not an innocent man, a man who loves his prison walls..
When denseness falls upon natures fate, where have all the flowers are gone, in the autumn of tomorrow?
What makes the storm stop taking delightful strolls pretending when cages were never meant to hold in a bird of freedom?
Why must a man give up when all goes wrong, putting himself back in a cage, he said he would never return too?
Love is like that, you can confess over and over again, you do not love, only the one doing it, is the one who says he never loved that someone from the start.
Now in time, the one who says he never loved, finds out he loves anyone knows, being with someone for many years, there has to be love there, no one stays with some one they don't love unless it is just need.
Innocent or guilty, the one who puts himself in a cage will be guilty for living a lie, small-minded hearts can not give of themselves, they only dry up like a prune in the end.
Creeping through tunnels of destruction brings self-defeat determined to return to hells door burning in the fire, loving it all ways misery loves another one as miserable, where is love, I wonder! That is the main question in this poem of many thoughts