Bent Words

Bent Words

September 20, 2004

Rest these aching limbs, be still my throbbing head

Quiet all the form and flutter, let me sleep instead

I've not the reason or the understanding as you revel in pure disgrace

I've not the courage or desire, to show my hollow face

Such shocking pain, from overfull to empty sight

An entire world tossed away within the passing night

What I knew and what I had; how I labored and where I went

Stripped away of everything, of all the years I've spent

Nothing lies before me with nothing in its wake

Nothing forms inside me; there's nothing more that you can take...

Written at 11:07 a.m.