dark despair, feeling worthless,
tucked in bed by day and night,
lost his rudder, sense of purpose,
lost his reason, lost his fight.

so i led him slowly inwards,
deep within recess of mind,
there to find his evil landlords
that had left him deaf and blind

and as arrow to its target,
as a magnet to piece of steel,
to a memory of long departed,
imagined scar that wouldn't heal

in his mind his little sister
dead in cot at one month old
in his head allowed to blister,
fester as unhealthy mould

he, at five, alone with her,
conceived the thought that he'd killed her,
self-respect began to wither
creating shadows to bewilder

close thirty years, the secret blame
had struck him down and made him lame,
because of false sense of shame
the game of devil with no name.