Makayla

15

Get up....
Cradle me in your arms,...
As you once did before....
Your embrace...
I came to for comfort....

_Now it holds me captive...
In the depths of my despair....

_Hatred burned upon you,...
Then He almighty,...
At last it was framed on me....
There I found myself a cuckoo clock... For every hour the clock would ring;...
For every time I would ask why.

_Why you...
Why me...
But why?...
For why was the key,...
Not of my freedom,...
Like I so foolishly thought...
But the key to what would keep me trapped....

_Till I,
Once older, wiser,
I made my own key
As it shown bright
In that once gloomy sky,
The seasons turned
Years flew by.