Never

The walls around him are crumbling to ashes
Grit clinging like disease to his eyelashes
Sprawled on cement with his eyes fixated
Drooling grimly, his pupils dilated
The ceiling is beginning to cave
But he has accepted that this is his grave
For he traded his life for a bottle of rum,
And this is the man that he has become.

His breath so stagnant, it leads rats away
At his sight, even the worms go astray
All he longs for is a genuine kiss
For he has never experienced divine bliss
But as the venom wraps itself around his tongue
He recalls the days when he was carefree and young
And he washes it down with a poisonous sap
As if it were pure water drizzling from an ethereal tap

Never has he been so alone
Never has he been off the throne
Never has he it been so clear
Never has he been in fear
Never has he cared about anyone dear

Never
Never
Never

For he traded his life for a bottle of rum,
And this is the man that he has become.