Something is caught in my throat. I think it's my throat.
It looks like a cruel fairy took a child's drawing of a horse and gave it life.
Madness string 1549
Every prison takes its certain shape. Some cages are gilded, some barren, some empty and dead. Some exist in wilderness, in solitude under the open sky. Some are clear, others not so much. A lifetime spent without purpose. A purgatory awaiting death. A sentence suspended. Painful care taken at every turn.