Like a baby suckling from a teat, I latch to bosom bare
nourishment that I draw forth, is nothing but despair.
Hypodermic nipples, feed me constant flows of dope
ensuring that my soul and mind, feel sorrow beyond hope.

Walking lonely in darkness, more black than moonless night
promised storms not far ahead, my demons show delight.
Anguished cries like siren wails, I cower to my knee
the screams of torture I realize, are none other than me.

The strength I have wan's everyday, the more I walk this road
even rocks that stand through time, eventually erode.
Weakened spirit still I fight, the game of life is played
my mothers milk, the consequence, for my choices made.