The Toll, by Matthew Grode Subscribe to rss feed for Matthew Grode

The impending darkness angers my tired soul,
As my shaking hand pays the devils's toll,
My only true drug is sleep deprivation,
As I can't find a travel agent to book my mind's vacation,
When most are sleeping I feel alive,
It's the only time I can leave this world behind,
My body still aches from the night before,
with a vague recollections I cannot restore,
I stare out the window at the world below,
It's enshrouded in darkness and darkness I know,
Through the years I've made improvments everyone can see,
But during that time I learned I can never fix me,
Some things in this world are mean't to be broken,
So I reach in my pocket for one last token,
The devil nods with an approving grin,
As I start down the path of worldly sins,
Suddenly I stop dead in my tracks,
Because I realize I didn't leave breadcrumbs to lead myself
back,

Matthew Ray Grode

Posted: 2006-04-02 07:42:40 UTC

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