The Lonely Man

It's a poem. You read it...

 On a lonely street

Walks a lonely man

 With no one to meet,

And nothing to plan.

 Nothing so precious,

Nothing so sweet.

 Just paranoia, and fear

That forever repeats.

 Memories fade of a place before this,

Nightmares replace all of that bliss.

 Hidden behind masks,

Three pieces of you.

 Blood as payment,

For passage through...

 What that I were he

Who finally unlocks thee...

 But I am gone now,

There is nothing left of me.

  All my heart was given to you,

Blood as payment for passage through...

 Now I walk a foreign land.

Hole in chest, head in hand.

 There's nowhere to go,

There's nothing to be.

  All I know is

I am not free...