Enslaved
©® Steven Michael Pape 2022
Enslaved by this poison,
That once made you whole
Now lying in despair,
As it sucks out your soul.
The pin prick reality,
Blackened spoon dream
Laid out on the table,
Your own alter scene.
Friends don't recognize,
What you've become.
The choices you've made,
Cannot be undone.
Track marks run deep,
Like old railway lines
As you cover your hands,
And try to disguise.
Poisoned blood in your veins,
A deadly connection
A waxwork appearance,
In your complexion.
When the saviour does come,
It's so silent, not loud
As you sit in despair,
Hoping to be found.
Your voice echoes out,
Speakers so old
Turning the sunshine,
Into an encompassing cold.
And in the old photos,
The despair sits in your eyes
As you pray for salvation,
For that final sunrise.
A man in the box,
Flowers surround
As your words are read,
Each line so profound.
For Layne Staley (1967-2002)
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