The dungeon

My mind, the dungeon,
Damp and decaying,
Putrid smells and mould,
Imprisoning my soul for its crime.
Of life.
Chained, shackled and left to rot,
My mind the dungeon,
Stagnant water trickles down cracks in the walls,
No light, no sound,
Other than the many voices,
So many voices.
Awaiting death,
My mind, the dungeon.