The den of secrecy
Locked with no key
For even the warden
Misplaced it long ago
Always wondering, where it has gone
Only to move forward
As they forget to look backwards
Memories are a splatter
Mosaic with no pattern
Thrown and tattered
Picking up the pieces long forgotten
Where does this piece fit?
When did this arrive?
Why is this here?
Whose mind is this?
Why can't the lock be broken?
A spiral, a cycle
But, the chains have yielded
Is now the right time...?