Let us not forget the darkest of our woes either, and the turmoil neath us all as well. Perhaps chains be broken through these principles, the piece of you which is dying can return to live again in the unity of a less gruesome suffering.
And the beauty of this toxic venom, is in these words created. Routing my breast thy nocturnal hush----No timidness, and a very profound of the plague inside. Extirpating under the exoderm. Destroying underneath the skin, remarkably well written. Seems though not only poison can do such a thing but also frail loneliness, a misunderstanding, feelings of banishment and neglect can leave toxins of such ill neath are wake as well ;).
The matter of principle only in your creation though, and it could not have been more delicately played out.