I cannot escape the ruthless reality,
of this sinister shadow now over me.
Lying safe upon a bed of rusty nails,
blanketed in a cloak of woeful misery.
I’m suffocated, and I cannot breathe;
inhaling the brutality of his mad scent.
A raunchy stench too overwhelming,
I refuse the notion that we must repent.
Pungent cold cinder blocks to lie upon;
a concrete, bitter pillow for my head.
Self-inflicted are my bleeding wounds,
once soulful eyes now are all but dead.
I’ve found new comfort within darkness,
it has become a beacon of guiding light.
No more fear of living within shadows,
I now forever embrace the death of night.