From this I see no pathway or escape,

No slightest chance by which I may evade.

On every side I turn, the hated shape

Still blocks me, and I find each striving stayed.

Henceforth I walk between these alien walls

That shut me in, resisting on each side.

From now on I must be content with halls

Of darkness, when my soul would wander wide

If I could hate one man who held me here,

Or blame ill chance, or hold fate in disdain,

My soul still free, then I could live the drear

Drab days ahead and bear my prison-pain.

What hurts most is that I myself betrayed

My freedom, and have all my future made.