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EMPTY CORRIDORS
For days on end
In the darkness of my soul
The all consuming anguish
Dulls the candle's glow.
Still I keep it burning
The wick so frail and thin
This graveyard of emotions
This coffin full of sin.
The rose has trouble blooming
When smothered under snow
The seed that gets no water
Has not a chance to grow.
So I pace the empty corridors
Searching for my need
I tread on miles of broken glass
And all I do is bleed.
Small comfort though I might've found
In liquid lust so neat
A pinhole of numbing pleasure
A pinprick short and sweet.
Even then, desertion,
The flow just had to cease
In the end the same old hunger
The craving for the beast.