I do not fear my friend
For he walks with me through the structures of stone,
Gazing at me with contentment.
He holds my hand and walks with me.
He sings a song of Tranquility.
Rookwood is our home.
When I walk into our home,
He holds my hand.
My prison on the other hand, takes on the form of a Woman,
Or a man.
'Tis my prison whom I fear the most,
She pours into my mouth the Venom from her lips.
Daily she tempts me.
No, my prison is not Physical, but it is a Vice.
A vice whom I fear more than my Friend.
My Prison is addictive, and she leaves me wanting more of her.
She forces her venom onto me.
She is not Tranquil though she appears to be.
She is forceful, and awful.
She plagues my thoughts.
And she plagues my life.
I can not resist her advances,
For she is more beautiful than my Friend.
But then again, aren't all vices beautiful?
That is the purpose of poison,
It looks beautiful on the outside.
But it is deadly on the inside.
As for my friend, he is not addictive, nor is he beautiful.
But he is truthful.
He does not flatter me with lies,
But he looks upon me and tells me the truth.
His presence is calm,
And though his presence will be inevitable,
He does not force himself upon me.
My Friend is the Painful Truth
and my prison, a horrid Vice.
