HELP

Sit in a darkened room,
The only company is his
Screams of madness, the
Madness of ten thousand
Maniacs, madness that will
Last a lifetime. His screams
Are but of cold Banshees.
His soul is a tormented
Wave pounding on a lonely shore.
His mind is that of a lonely face
Left to stand in a dying forest,
The twisted branches are his veins
And body slowly wilting away to
Nothing & there isn't much he can
Do but let out a scream that
Could end it all. But in the end
All he can do is hope and pray
That someone hears him and Helps.