Poetry in slumber

The glass is empty.
The faucet is dry.
The shadows linger.
It is cold outside.

An endless saga.
A crying shame.
The road is narrow.
But who’s to blame?

Laughter is easy.
Though no one knows
Deep down inside
The wound still shows.

A tear in the dark.
A silent scream.
Sleep takes long.
Where is the song?

The soul is famished.
The heart is chained.
When morning comes
The pain remains.