Weary of the day’s journey, he travels on
His steps grow heavy as if bound to boulders
He’s accustomed to this set routine
His life lacks meaning and a luster not easily restored
He forgets the days he once felt and thirsted for life
Replaced with repetition, bitterness, and apathy
He finds peace in a bottle
An ephemeral sight of heaven
Quickly destroyed by the reality of his surroundings
He suffers internally, struggles with the demons that strip him of his courage
He’s been reduced to nothing
Yes, he eats, he sleeps, converses like an ordinary person,
But the food will not sustain him, and his words are empty
