I was taken a prisoner of love, 


It was subtle like the flight of a dove. 


He used his arms as rope, 
His tongue as poison, 


And told me we should elope. 


He took me in his car


And we drove away very far. 


I didn't know where he took me, no not a clue, 


But he kept on telling me the lie,"I love you." 


Finally he did, what he came here to do: 
He ripped my beating heart out of my chest. 


When I wouldn't stop crying 
He told me to give it a rest. 


How could I give it a rest when my heart is torn out of my chest and laying right beside me?


That monster doesn't have the key to make me happy. 


I thought he made me Queen of his kingdom. 


That day I figured out it was just Stockholm Syndrome.