This is a poem about a character who suffers from arrogance and loneliness. My body was shackled by thin threads, with not a single limb abled. My hands were cuffed tightly that even my hands were numb. Shackled by my own destiny. Blood drips from my impaled hand as my head hung low. An abyss inside my empty eyes and not a single emotion shows. I can't escape. I can't get free... No... Even if I can, I won't. For it is I, whom shackled myself. I wasn't born in hell, nor is it my home. However, my destiny says, it is where I belong.