Not a broken bone
Not a single scratch
Just a wounded soul
With no possible match

No one to talk to
Or a soul to lean on
Just the walls and the ceiling
Stained with the shades of dawn

Red lines through his eyes
Shadows creep from behind
Can't stop the demons
From filling up his mind

They had tried to save his soul
The moment his downfall began
Now it's a sad, miserable sight
Of a cold, broken man


April 2007