A subtle mistress to troubled mind,
she sweeps in softly to soothe with depressant rhyme,
easing you back from impassioned emotion
imparting to you her secret potion...
a luscious concoction of emptiness, worthlessness, and resignation
and slowly you slip into her welcoming arms,
the fleeting embrace, how quietly it harms
the you that lives inside embattered brain
safe from the sun, safe from the rain...
safe from the joy, safe from the game
The sharpness of hurt she dulls with great skill
leading you from dangers of action, that is her will,
She'll take you inside and tuck you into bed,
sing you sleep,
shut out the lights,
and lock you inside your head.