imprisonment

Empty hole impossible to climb out of
Illumed by a single light
Slim thin entrance with a tight capacity
Walls made with certain opacity
Blurred out like a idling mind
Home for a feen
Temporary imprisonment
Fed only by his breathing
Happy thoughts turning in to grief
Left in a lonely estate
Deaths grimly light modified dimly
Independent self torture
Playing as a picador messing with his own state of mind
Turning blind to life
Hit with a black spice
Now a empty shell filling a empty hole
Just to be repeated by a juvenile soul