A palace of thorns, Fit to hold only the highest of kings
Or the most dastardly of villains.
A thousand pairs of hands reaching out at passers-by
Whether to beg for help, or pull them down, Nobody knows.
A maze of tangled branches,
Where those who hide will never be found And those who seek Will never escape.
A silent tomb for those unseen
For those who live in the darkness And die without a sound
A place no-one else dares enter
No-one else but me