In the shadows of a silent night,
Lies a soul, torn and contrite,
Chasing whispers of a fleeting high,
Bound by chains, it can’t deny.

Once a dreamer, free and bold,
Now a puppet, bought and sold,
In the grip of a cruel embrace,
Seeking solace in a darkened place.

The mirror shows a ghostly face,
Eyes that plead for saving grace,
A battle fought within the mind,
A search for peace, so hard to find.

Yet in the depths of this despair,
Flickers hope, a tender prayer,
For the dawn that breaks the night,
To bring a soul back to the light.