I was a solid man.
A solid man with broken pieces
Pieces astrewn on the dusty floor of life,
thrown away with my own guilty verdict

No glue or wires to hold me together,
just a small tangent of sanity and veins.
Structurally not sound,
my moral compass has taken the wrong course

A course of insurmountable ill wills,
wills that would make a grown man, cry and beg.
A beggar that I see before me,
seeing myself in the mirror of near death.

That death bounds to me,
like the leather restraints of a sadomasochist
No more control over thoughts or person,
fearing what lies ahead in waiting

I waited for life to come to me,
but only saw the emptiness.
My empty mind,
trying to put the puzzle back together