Can you even speak a syllable of truth?
Is there a speck of clarity in your mind’s eye?
Are you the center of your universe,
or are you shackled someplace inside?
Are there moments to dream of freedom,
or is every breath of time a plan,
a quest to feed the monster
that controls you, its front man.
You breath insanity into your blood
and it roots inside your brain.
You shoot yourself countless times
through needle pricks to your vein.
The only ones that love you
forgive you before you’re clean
and aid the villain that clasps your neck
by bridging the gap in between.
Divine intervention is the ray of hope
that seeks the lost one and saves,
delivering from dark dungeon torture
to sober life or early grave.