Crooked Shadow

A darkened veil of endless pain
Cover the eyes of my heart
Like a poet imprisoned without his quill
Or an artist, without his art

Complacent in all of my choices
But reprobate to a fault
Torn asunder from the rest of the world
Scarred by endless assault

An open wound with infectious bile
A prick that will not heal
Confused and alone, I've lost my way
Broken, I cannot feel

Like a puppet on a lonely stage
My strings are in your hands
Cursed to follow and never to lead
Just following your commands

A crooked shadow, never quite right
A place to wipe your feet
Bent in the line my heart has drawn
Never to feel complete