The Bell

There is no light that is not stinging

There are no ears that are not ringing

How could there be? Who is immune?

Who could ignore this hateful tune?

My ears are filled, tormented, cowed

But no one else can hear; somehow

I alone am summoned forth

To work and suffer all my worth

The beckoning is tight like rope

It burns like lashes, shackles hope

Yet still I heed, for now the need

Strikes at me when I wake and sleep

Once I was tall and proud and strong

Now I lay hunched and bruised and long

There is no man who shackles me

But masters worse than men can be

Addiction, friend, consumes the soul

But will not kindly eat it whole

For when the bell rings loud and true

It makes one promise, through and through

"All troubles gone, all pains erased

Forget both trauma and disgrace"

The price is low, and simple too

Addiction takes a piece of you

Until one day, when nothing's left

You hear the bell, and feel bereft

Of all you were, and so you run

To heed the awful, ringing hum