Byron and Me

Shadows shining on the wall The only scenes of change at all in the prisoner's plight Camera obscura, pinhole of light The only sensation of sight in the ever-night A desert rose blooms all alone Deserted rooms don't make a home Averted soon won't last too long Where there's no light, there is no flame No shadows on the wall to blame For things that turn out wrong Sirens screaming in my head Byron's comforting in an otherwise empty bed Artifice all around surrounds my soul Partitions insulate, protect the hole from the bite of cold Culture's in my head and in my nose Still a chill no matter what the clothes Closed the doors long time ago Slow death eroding from within No sense of foreboding when atrophy sets in The limbs are the first to go