In the quiet of the night, a shadow looms,
Whispers of a needle, drawing silent dooms.
Eyes once bright, now dim and lost,
A soul entrapped, at a devastating cost.

The streets are silent, but stories they tell,
Of battles with demons, a personal hell.
Dreams shattered, like glass on stone,
Lives derailed, hearts turned to bone.

A plea for hope in the darkest hour,
For strength and courage, a healing power.
To break the chains, to free the mind,
And leave the shadows far behind.

Let awareness be the light we share,
To guide the lost with tender care.
Together, we can make a stand,
And heal the scars across the land.