You tell yourself the air is warm,
The walls are high, they shield the storm.
No need to climb, no need to roam,
The safest place is here at home.

You call it peace, you call it choice,
Yet drown the whispers of a voice
That scratches, claws, and pulls you near,
To show you truths you’d rather fear.

The chains are light, the lock unseen,
The door stands open, yet you dream.
For stepping out would break the spell
And comfort makes a lovely cell.

So here you stay, where doubt is dim,
A king within a house of skin.
Yet deep inside, you always knew
The bars were built by none but you.