Analysis of My Abyss

My mind recalls
An ancient time.
I fear
I know solitude too well.
I used to sit and wait,
But I wait no longer.
I've learned
I hold the key,
And no one else
Can unlock me.
Heaven is the warmth of the sun on my face,
The wind through my hair,
And the touch of your hand.
But those delicate fingers
Are strangers to my frame.
And my mind runs over all that I long for
And dare not take.
And I know very well
I am the creator
Of my own hell.