Prison Of Despair

Despair has built for me a wall, foundations laid upon the past, till block on block it was complete, and high and strong and built to last. It walls me in, it walls you out, and yes, I know I built it so, protection from a greedy world, the avarice of every foe. At times it's cold behind my wall, and lonely as the sullen grave, but life is no less cold than death, for grieving souls we cannot save. And some of us are made for walls, the prisoners of a grim despair, constructed from a lifetime's pain. We keep our walls in good repair.