Bad Milk

Is that someone I see there, hidden by the gloom?
Please come nearer if you dare, I can make a little room,
Have you just arrived my friend, confused and feeling weird?
It's bad, I know, I'll not pretend, you've been commandeered.

I know you must be very scared, to be here in this place,
And I guess that you can't see me, though I can see your face,
My eyes have grown accustomed to this pitch black atmosphere,
It'll take a little while but soon I might appear.

It's probably for best though, so we've got time to chat,
And I can introduce you to a world that makes you fat,
I've no idea how long it's been, that I've been lying here,
But I know that now time is short, as the end for me is near.

I guess it's now you'll be thinking where your clothes have gone,
And what's this strange and jellied floor that we're lying on?
And isn't it so warm in here, with the strangest smell,
Those noises all around us, from how many who can tell?

I wonder what your story is, I'm sure it's just like mine,
One night you were out walking, for just a little time,
A lonely path you may have made, far from madding crowd,
When suddenly you saw a light come from yonder cloud.

You know that something happened, but it seems so distant now,
You can't recall the process, and you just can't figure how,
You went from walking late at night, to being in this place,
With only cloudy memories, of a long and pale grey face.

But I know your most pressing thought, relates to that dread thing,
That covers nearly all your face, and feeds you oxygen,
But that is not the only thing that those tubes provide,
For soon it will be feeding time, for that is what's supplied.

The stuff that's fed is pale and grim and has a milky taste,
But thicker than you've ever had, more like some awful paste,
I really wouldn't bother, trying to resist,
The stuff just keeps on coming, you can't make the thing desist.

Are your eyes better now? can you see what I've become ?
Of what that milk does to you, after so very, very long,
Yes I'm really very fat, my skin is stretched and scarred,
I can barely move at all,  at least not very far.

But now that we've had time to talk, I know they're on their way,
To come and get their fatted calf, an easy form of prey,
If your unlucky you might see, some of their dread ilk,
The one's that are responsible for feeding us bad milk.