Fragments of his soul lay spent at the foot of his bed.
Scattered shards of self sit ashamed across the open floor.
His face once whole now splayed shred.
A bull’s-eye betrayal chiseled, until he was left no more.
He was broken at the hip, hence, unstable became his street;
Down a path grown dreary, drumming the tune of two bankrupt feet.
His signature a limp obtained from solemn foundations shaken.
All hope was beaten, severed at the joint, his stability was all but taken.