The Prison of Broken Screams

Having to write the pages again
When I don't know where the story begins
Practically hard enough to slow you down
From achieveing your prized crown
Confusion in distraught is rather glum
It can make the wisest man dumb
Down you fall through the cracks
Never can you turn back
To the place that brought such a dark, quiet cold
That is nonexistent yet so old
I doubt that I will ever dream
Of a place that more ever seems
A prison in the night of broken screams.