There is a house
an old house
used and broken
It is locked and chained
defended by everything possible
In the house is a room
the room is empty
Except for a box
small
but heavy
In the box is the most precious thing in the world
There is a man, he owns the house
the room
the box
But he could never hope to own whats inside
just contain it
He does everything he can to keep it safe
sealing his box as tightly as he can
He would die if he lost it
forever without hope
He needs whats in the box more than he needs life itself
But he knows
deep inside
the tighter he holds on
the harder it will be to hold
He knows he must open the box
let its contents be free
But the risk is so great
he keeps it locked away hiding from the world
Nobody benefiting from this amazing thing
He lives his life in fear of losing this precious commodity
Than one day
he checks the house
the room
the box
The wonderful thing is gone!
He is left with nothing but the empty shell of soul
Left to die old and alone
without the joy he thought he'd always have
And he knows
deep inside
it's his fault
The moral is this
hold on loosly
or lose what you have
