You are the prophet of my soul,

zerfem:

You are the prophet of my soul,
Exile, you thought, was perfect goal.
But sending me away you locked the
Door of jail, the paintings of 
Undecided fate, to cut or let me go away,
From you to you, exiled unforgotten,
I know you suffered calling name, in
Agony of our secrets but alone, the
Others count not.