duh...

there are times when the sounds in my head remind me of the distant fog
the way that it envelops the land far reaching
beyond the sea where the prisons are, behind the mountains
i sit in my little cubicle no larger then a meter by a meter
and i count those bricks one by one till i know their number to the whole
981 there are, if you discount that one on the window sill
and include that one above the door
but somehow I seem to have forgotten my reason for being here
i dont quite remember anymore
it was so long ago, and the darkness brings sleep
and sleep brings relief
but there is something I'm missing
something rather important
thats it, the key
i don't remember the haze, I don't remember much at all
all i remember is the little light shining in the window
thats gone now
i do remember the way that the sun reflects through my window
but its night, and well its not reflecting no more
shame really
so as i huddle in my little room, i leant on the door
only to find it swing open
suddenly it dawned on me
it wasn't some one that held me here...
it was me