A barbwire ball spinning in my chest;
An erratic desire to tame unrest;
Red hot coal dribbling through my flesh;
Muted screams of the oppressed;
A world of irrelevance in my head;
The visor of illusion shines blood red;
In air this heavy have I lost myself?
Darkness descends on my cry for help.
Have I come here before in regret?
I hoped it forever, last time I left.
No hero, no winner, no story did rest,
A minute in these dungeons so unblessed,
To sentence the remains
of Failure’s breath.
Drops of rain on a dying leaf
Breath unfolds an ancient key
I listen hard for when it speaks
It speaks from a land beyond the free