A Million Shards Be, Broken Glass

Nineteen years of age, lost amid drugs ? Going nowhere except towards an asylum... Soon his beautiful child, torn to be tattered ? Like time ripped apart; such abandonment As downcast eyes left emptied by a world, this place, bent upon sorrows; thus rent these walls Their rogues' gallery her Requiem ? Ghost in a machine, pulling thornes from our eyes; tapeworms Parasites be this bubonic plague; his parody betwixt burlesque as goblins; hallucinating, of grovel ? Screaming.