Entrapment of the Vine

                   No matter my attempts of escape, the trailing plant still winds.

As it dances around my right arm, 

It traps me in its never-ending coil.

What was once a small branch

Grew into a monstrous creeping plant.

As It continues to consume me,

The thorns start to grow more and larger.

I yearn to continue my life 

But the briar won’t go away. 

Every time I grasp my pen,

The thorns sink into my flesh and bone.

Though this may be the final line,

I will still be in the Entrapment of the Vine.