The crack of dawn, yet absent of light

Darker than the hours preceding

Only one could dread a new day

But it's a constant battle and endless fight

To rise from this dungeon

To enter this isolated Hell

The morning is slow, yet all too short

Lead weights on all limbs and eyes

No routine, but a mission

To begin each day, Only to distort

The true soul trapped inside

Acting hides the shame

Of the person slowly dying, caught in its grip

The long for sleep

The long for loneliness

Only to awake and continue digging this pit