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Every hundred minutes, every six thousand seconds, it shifts. A free prison ,but nonetheless never free from being a prison. The prison itself may be free to shift, but its inhabitants, its prisoners, its captives- they are never freed. Exclusively never free from the worst prison: madness. This is insofar a freedom in itself, allowing its welder to......well, escape. But; out of the fire and into the frying pan. Or vice versa,depending on how you reach your prison- or snapping point. The additional warden is sorrow. Regret, although you know you have done nothing wrong. Tears, but rightfully present on the cheekbones. The sorrow jails us, or more specifically the one. Not the two, but the one. For only one is under sorrow, under that accursed prison that innocent does not deserve. The innocent is not even a prisoner, but a captive; for lack of a better term.
For there are two locked away,in this shifting prison. One of innocence, and another of criminal. The evil takes charge of good, but the lamb is more than the angered ram.
