A captive of geography
Wings of freedom lacerated by circumstance
Choking on quicksand that engulfed him long ago
The lifeless land he inhabits
With no promise of tomorrow
No hope for today
Determination laced  with desperation
He is quite the cute pile of misery and regret

Paralysed by fear of what he knows is coming
The settling
The mockery that will be him

"Kick the chair from underneath you and be done with it nate"

The voices swirl inside his head like an endless chorus haunting and guiding him to his end
He walks this earth with a dark and somber string quartet as the soundtrack to his life

That which troubles his soul conquers it
Still he won't surrender.