A cold iron hand clamps its grip about her
\nThere is no life here
\nIcy sheets of terror
\nBound about by white chains.<\/p>\n
How she longs to escape from this prison!
\nTo breathe the air again
\nTo breathe the air again<\/p>\n
All about a cold and dreary world looks down upon her face
\nand does nothing.<\/p>\n
A stillness of your own heart
\nWhen from nightmares and dreams you awake
\nFrightens you
\nEntraps you
\nYou are now bound as she<\/p>\n
In white chains.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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