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Twisted, Crooked

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When he sees himself, he sees trouble.

Trapped in dust and rubble,

He smoked his life away.

Waiting for the dawning day.

The anger is quite subtle,

Falls in a hole, made by his own shovel.


He tumbles through in an angry abyss,

He can't see through the condensed mist.

He cuts himself, so he can cease to exist.

Twirling in a downward spiral.

Until he discovers a stone to mark his mile.

Breaks through addiction with an iron fist

Cuts on his arm disappear from his wrist.


He sees the blinding light,

But addiction won't depart without a fight.

So darkness, yet again, returns.

He starts to get sick, his stomache churns

The pain embedded within him burns.

Turns to shadows stays out of sight,

He's cold, lonely on a quiet, dark night.


He feels angry, abandoned, betrayed,

He doesn't realize he's hidden in the shade.

He's blind, he can't see.

He finds himself having to flee.

He runs from his problems that he already made,

He comes accross a puzzle, only he has the key.


He gives any will he has left to spare,

Finds that recovery is not too rare.

Gives his life over to a forgiving, higher power

His resentments are pushed off this selfish tower,

Discovers that he can live life, hour by hour.

Amends his wrongs, and tries to care.

So this isn't too bad for him to bare.


His eyes are open, he is reborn.

His life, his heart, no longer torn.

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