The Call

Cold and alone,
Abandoned on the beach.
As I search for a phone.
Belongings stolen.
Medicine far out of reach.
One call is all I can afford.
To hear those loving words.
I crave from those I adore.
Listening to the waves,
As they greet the shore.
I want more,
From this life.
Am I the ruler of my mind?
Or its slave?
Is it the puppeteer,
That pulls my strings,
And makes me misbehave?
Running astray,
Constantly scared,
Pushing everyone far away.
My dark addiction,
Draining me like a leech.
Where do I find that inner peace?
I want my mind finally at ease.
To be as tranquil,
As this beach.

- Andrew Horner