Sometimes… I look in the
mirror… and see my inner self…
Tied with shackles of past,
prejudice and penitence…
I struggle hard to break free… and
leave behind… this broken self…
But I know not why… I lack the
strength… the motivation and sanguineness…
Every day… in my dream, I would
see myself… growing weaker and fragile…
Like this lonely heart…
shattered… a countless pieces… scattered…
But in my dream, I see a hand…
The Hand of an angel… soft but not frail…
That pulls me… with all her
strength… but the demonic shackles won’t break but clatter…
These fetters try to hold me back
into the darkness… endlessly… shamelessly…
But that hand tries harder… and
my hands bleed… I cry… not out of pain…
I cry… because I had started
liking the darkness… and this hand was pulling me away…
Because I found love in these
shackles which won’t let me go… and pull me back again…
This hand, then holds mine…
tighter… to let me know that she is with me…
That I need not worry… and that I
need not be scared… she wants me to hold onto it…
I start feeling the strength… I
start regaining the faith… in her and in me…
I then, give my all and break
those chains… and then I see the light and my angel’s smile…
But then my dream ends, and I
still find myself in chains and pitch-black darkness…
I cry for her… my angel … but she
wouldn’t come… and I wait sleeplessly… hopelessly…
But today… I saw that hand again…
It’s not a dream this time…
Today… I gave into her powers and
charms… and she has finally set me free… 
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