An oppressive, heavy darkness
Stale, musty air tinged with a touch of madness
A bone chilling cold
Assaults his senses as he awakens from sleep's stranglehold

Alone in his cell
He slumps with tears making tracks of dirt down his face
In defiance of the gloom a brightly lit shrine occupies a corner
A shrine filled with mementoes of his past

He drags himself towards the shrine
Casts his eyes about till they rest upon a key
A key for a door in a cell with no doors
A key that's engraved with the words
"Freedom lies in the way forward"

He scrabbles away from the shrine and slumps against a wall
With a blood curdling keen he wails
"The future is too daunting for me!"
As he claws his face with dirt filled nails

So he is still there sitting alone in his prison
With the key mockingly bright
Waiting for him to grab it
And escape that prison of his own making