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Battered Blaine down in the rain.  
And kept still in the winter’s chill. 
Sudden appetites and several sour fights. 
His moods distorted by the pain. 
Seasons came and swirled the same. 
Inside his brain, a sickly change. 
At the will, of the world ‘s exchange.  

Slept in sap and cloaked in shadow. 
Amongst the sorry sights that drained him. 
Deep in thought he stayed, inside a numbing claim. 
Repeating his name, as the rain turned to snow.
Restless and weighted, he fell into cravings.
Worthless and hopeless, empty and shame. 
Silently, he shouldered all the blame.

Irritable from inability, he lied alone. 
Lied to those he loved, lied of his state. 
And lied in the embrace of nature’s disgrace. 
Until a tone rang from his phone.
A message to remind him of himself. 
Which broke the haze of frozen plight. 
And brought him back into the light. 

He soon rested near a common man’s fire. 
An electric heater, with a lamp above him. 
Nestled in a blanket with his phone in hand. 
He took his medicine and began to aspire. 
To soothe his moods and mend his wrongs. 
He would not give into his disorder’s might. 
Instead, he would remember his light.

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