His urges must come from hell,
Tortured eyes sunken and dark,
Corruption and insanity twist him,
For him blackness sings like a lark,
Long aching days pass in a blur.
Seconds stretch into an hour,
This madness offers no peace,
While unseen mouths his soul devour,
Oh, sweet death, you’re an illusion,
Not meant for a damned one like me,
I’m Tantalus and you’re out of reach,
I beg the powers, just let me be,
As I slowly succumb to my fate,
Warped reason makes all things clear,
The illusion offers release,
Then it rends the veil like a spear,
There is no reason or rhyme,
No end to its siren song,
I plunge ahead without fear,
Exulting and ever so wrong,
He lies in his padded cell,
Emperor of an empty realm,
Helpless, in terror, sedated,
Hungry shadows creep into his room.
