The Man In the Corner

Midnight without stars, the lights blur together,
Corrupted pollution keeps us from the stars forever.
A billion incomprehensible thoughts, bleeding from my head,
And a spindly dark figure at the end of my bed.

The man in the corner.
His twisted figure bends.
He stands like a mourner,
As he tries to make amends.
When my hearts been beating fast,
And there's an aching in my back.
His body floats past,
Amongst the blue fading to black.

I watch him in the night.
Back arched over me, I sleep,
Assures me it's alright.
And we smile and hug and weep.
He does not appear human,
His silhouette overshadows;
With eyes of illusions,
Heart pierced with an arrow.

I wonder about his story,
If he was once like me.
Before the twisted, gory,
Stole his vessel completely.
Lonely, empty souls, are the stories I heard.
They roam to protect others from the same fate.
In the jagged cracks of light they remain smothered.
But my soul is drifting also and I fear that it's too late.

He doesn't comprehend love,
He just knows to stare.
He lurks from above,
And displays more care.
Than anyone had, ever,
So despite that he's disturbing,
I suppose it more clever,
When you are hurting,
To gain your warmth from someone,
Who's felt the most pain.
Not driven by consumption
And his personal gain.

Blissful streaks, remains of love,
Around my room he scatters.
His daily towering from above,
Is all that truly matters.
But the man in the corner,
He can't always stay.
His purpose is to scare,
So I watch him fade away.
And his body moves along,
In a matter of seconds.
Any trace of him is gone.
As the night zephyr beckons.