Trapped (The Silent Battle)
I'm captured by lust — not in passion, but prison.
Every thought, every glance… feels like a decision.
Captivated, manipulated, I dance with the flame,
Controlled by desire, but I'm the one to blame.
Trapped by it —
My hands on the bars, forged from my own habits.
This ain't about love, this is deeper —
More like hunger in the soul with no leader.
An endless void,
Where silence screams louder than sound.
Where I question if I'm lost…
Or if I'm just not found.
My actions betray me.
My inactions delay me.
Caught between "do better"
And "maybe this is just who I am lately."
Control?
It's a myth I chase with bleeding feet.
The world's at my fingertips — but it don't feel complete.
So close I can taste it,
Yet it slips when I reach…
A cruel kind of magic —
Or maybe just me.
Each day's a battle.
Not the kind they write in scrolls,
But a silent war between
My demons and my goals.
They shake hands sometimes.
Other days they draw knives.
Some nights they argue,
But they all wear my face in disguise.
I don't always know what to do,
But I count the small wins —
A breath held, a thought fought,
A whisper that begins...
To remind me:
I'm still here.
Still trying.
Still writing.
This is my truth.
This is my war.
And I ain't asking for peace —
I'm learning what the fight is for.
---