Screaming and banging behind bars;
Crying and begging for release
Before the feeling died and left a scar.
Died neglected, died without peace.

But she left a scar, left a trace...
Left a mark no one could erase.
Embedded deep within is the face
Who left me, left his place.

Years have gone; passed by,
The feeling locked inside has long waned.
Never had the chance to justify
Its existence and why it should remain...

But it left a scar, left a trace...
Left a mark even I could not erase.
Yet oblivious of it each passing day,
But the scar was there to stay.

Then came its due and woke;
Not screaming nor begging but knocking softly...
As if gently it invokes
Me to set it free.

It was the scar, it was the trace...
The mark that I could not erase...
Living once again like a spark
Flickering brightly in the frigid dark.

Slowly this feeling caged and tormented,
Spread like wild fire in my heart;
Untamed and burning, not to be neglected.
It's here to stay and never more to part.

The scar that once was the only trace...
The mark that no one could erase,
Not anymore a caged spark
But a resurrected fire in the dark.