He shivers in 70 degree weather
A long cloud drifts over his head
He wants to laugh
His legs have become...
Numb
They walk away
His fingers leave
Writing
His only way out
Or in
You cannot leave
Confined to this place
You can pray
Meditate
Fast
Whatever
In the end, you'll always come back
Until you close your eyes for good
To this place you're doomed
A feeling of truth
Justice
Knowledge at its finest
Organized, perfect
He lights another cigarette
He can't escape
He never thought
His shadow be his only friend
His footsteps be his worst enemy
He never thought..
Smiling
He laughs of pure joy
Sound is a thing of beauty
That many take for granted
Sight
Feeling
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