• Sitting her helpless,
    lost in the dark,
    Yearning to find her, help her, save her,
    alone in the dark.
    The needle gleams with a menacing light,
    uttering false promises of joy and escape.
    Her pale flesh waiting, soft and yielding
    marred with the scars of previous days.
    Strangled with anguish, a cry goes unheard,
    if falls on deaf ears,
    lost to the dark.
    The future flashes, solemn and quick,
    to and old damask graveyard,
    to a funeral for one.
    Asphixiated, unable to breathe,
    choking on tears and furious pleas
    I tried to help her, to break from the vice,
    Alas, for nothing, as she took her own life.
    Reality returns, as quick as had gone,
    Back to the struggle to save her,
    To make the candle burn.
    If only I could show her
    The things that I have seen,
    maybe then she'll listen,
    before she's claimed by the dark.