Brooding in the Dark

In the corner he sits alone

Whispering silently, monotone

His eyes focused, his brows perplexed

His mighty muscles often flexed

Always brooding, realities stark

Brooding, brooding, in the dark

At last he found some sweet caresses

Down in the deep recesses

Of his mind

All was cold, none was kind

Always brooding, realities stark

Brooding, brooding in the dark

What comfort he found there, none can say

But ever slowly, did he rot away

Pleasant nature lost, a cold corpse remained

And yet never, no matter how they strained

Could they extract that darkness

And keep him from that deep recess

Always brooding, realities stark

Brooding, brooding in the dark

Twas a dreary day when darkness claimed him

As cold as his dead hands, the soul of poor Tim

But no longer would the days cause him harm

No longer would he stick the needle in his arm

No longer was life a plague

His mind jumbled, his purpose vague

Surely he sought some reprieve at Death's Door

Only to find pain, more torturous than before

Always brooding, realities stark

Brooding, brooding, in the dark