Imprisoned

Slender beams of moonlight enter this darkened prison, as i kneel always in pain. Always silent, frozen here waiting. Robed forms wrought in panes of glass loom as lust dances in the air.
Forming an image in my mind, spearing my darkened soul.
Blood on my face, i raise my head, now kneeling before this impossible fate.  

Reviews

[AP Roberts]

This piece has some great imagery. However there are a few grammatical errors such as capitalization which, if fixed up, would help this read more smoothly.