The lights are out, music plays in the background

Darkness broken by a shout, a sobbing sound

On his knees, spit hangs from his lip

Screaming a plea, he knows is forfeit

“Why must I cry, why yearn to die?”

Amidst his tears, releases a sigh

His hand reaches for his drink, he requires a sip

The alcohol helps him to think, he knows he is sick

The sip turned to a gulp, his soul turned to pulp

Half empty bottle and a figure cemented in sulk

This is a picture the walls have often seen

A reoccurring scene, inescapable dream

The questions are always asked

When the tears are no longer masked, and his mind state is tasked

The screams find life, when the bottle lost half his

But the source of his strife … unknown what that is

However, he has a clue, a hint, a indication

Knows what he could do, overcome with hesitation

He has been through his mind’s eye, and saw the lie

A white door locks its content, never did he try

Try to open it, try to smash through

Scared of the meaning to the clue

Its mere sight brings forth a plight

He tries to fight with all his might

But never does he win

The door’s presence is dominating

The tears flow forth, unrestrained and steady

Each drop full of pain thus heavy

The weight bears down on his heart

Before it crumbles, the drinking starts

But he is still unwilling, unable to open that door

If its mere sight does this … there could be more

The door could open a memory so wrought with misery

That immediately he would drown in his own agony

And seek his last breath

Walk into the night, and play chess with death

He would rather stay sobbing in his room

Drunk beyond measure, basking in his gloom

He does not know the darkness in his heart

But feels it grow, ripping his happiness apart

When asked why he seems so unhappy

He replies “I don’t know why, don’t ask me”

Scared to face his past, hoping the present will pass

This is a man accustomed to his social mask

A walking contradiction … to not know yourself is hell