the poison still haunts mentally
and the desire is gone.
to be free once again to touch
what's right by defeating wrong.

the scars that linger increase in
the most dramatic pain.
circles swirling all around above
one must be insane.

the grip of the vice get tighter as
the minutes go by.
there are tears from swollen eyes
but one can't cry.

sorrow seems to come easier as if
it's in a much higher demand.
there's not a cure for the broken
heart of a dying and lost man.

for reasons untold there seems to
not be a way out.
nobody's doing any talking because
everyone's feeling doubt.

pleas and screams they all are yet
to remain unheard.
voices talking inside of my head
refusing to be disturb.