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He sat alone in a dark self-made cell
Only a crack of light revealed him there
His face a shadow of a good life once
Now a torture show to the uncivilized
Ghostlike features masked his lean face
You could hear his teeth chatter in a toast to his non-existent life
Armor black soiled clothes he wore in discontent
Filth and sweat of a war he chose himself
The blackness of his life rose from the graves of lost innocence
Night and day the earth pushed him up
He stumbled and fell unable to stand up straight
No one there to count how many times
His performance was naught, for he'd played this play too much
His family threw him out like trash away
He thieved and stole their love was gone
His mouth was parched from a son-less life
Filth and sweat were the war he chose
Soot and ash, his life a shamble-down shack
Greasy black strings, hung down from his skull
Sweat beads swam in an endless race
Eyes once bright shut down in shame
He sat in the corner for a moment in time
Jumped to pace back and forth as a caged animal
Heroin nightmares hung round his neck
So many holes flesh rotted soul
Descending from a height he could no longer hold
Sobs wracked his body, he screamed out in pain
Sharp metal bracelets cut into his wrists
Iron ankle chains cut through his bones
Blood tears dripped from his sunken ship eyes
He cupped his arms around his knees
Rocked back and forth, not able to stop
Starvation and dehydration tore his heart
The peace he had searched for
Found in the death of his life.

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