Stretched, like some bleak shadow
Your heavy sigh was your only weight- an anchor-
As if some malicious thief had taken all but your dull grief.
There is no touch or soft word to soothe you, my shrunken soldier
Sword slung limp upon your lap.
This is the dread-light, tred carefully
 There are hungry spies glinting in and out among the trees
Mad and wretched looking for anything to consume....
Such parasytes- the mad man howls in the night
Gripping onto doorsteps and abandoned floor boards
 Searching for some sheltered oblivion.
Another bottle breaking yet another fall.
My sad addiction to all this strain
Never explained yet never pushed away
It's often some idle comfort
 A short nod to the extreme.
A badly prescribed medicine
From the family alchemist.
No remedy tonight- like rest for the wicked-
We'll cling to those bleak shadows
That are most romantic
In the crook of night.