I have buried the wounds of my heart in a field of Broken Rock…tightly fit…buried deep shrouded in a mist that chills to the bone. From beneath the cold, jagged stone I hear there claws scraping against the rock sending shivers down my spine, there cries pierce the grey nothingness griping my soul with terror, but still… I visit them. I look into the eye of the beast and let him cloud my mind, console me, and dig his claws deeper into my heart. For I was the one who buried the beasts – not for crimes of the spirit – but for safekeeping, like a pet to let loose in moments of weakness… because just as I have entombed them…they have imprisoned me.
