Lockdown

She sits in the window,
Writing in the book.
The little black book,
That carries her heart.

She looks at the door,
Writing in her book.
All she wants is a little love.
Someone to carry her heart.

But everytime she falls in love,
The golden strands turn away.
Playing with her broken heart.
No one seems to understand.
This lockdown she is under.

She looks at the rain,
Through the crystal glass.
Wanting to feel,
Those little droplets.

But when the thunder rolls,
Heaven gives a silent cry.
Ripping at her chains.v
Chipping softly away.

If only Hell's angel,
Could release her now,
Will she truly be free.
But for now, God holds her in contempt.

The ignorance of her inner beauty,
So creative and wonderous.
Unique and mysterious.
Someday, the chains will be removed.
And the ain will be no more.