Endless corridors
Walls that shift
This string on my wrist
Isn't a gift

I feel like some
Have a bright glowing thread
A strong little string
To lead them to bed

My broken line
Leads me to traps
Drowns me and burns me
While my strength it saps

And I pity it so
For the meal it eats
A meager meal
And the feast yet shrinks

Black and frail
And cold to the touch
My broken thread
Has never helped much

Sleep in your bed
As I fall in a pit
Until my broken thread pulls me out
Here I must sit