I feel the road ahead is tough
And fear of fear is not enough,
The vultures are all looking down
My shaking corpse their feeding ground.
Words blow through like hollow reed
Nothing sticks and nothing feels,
Rivers, meaning, dry like bone
Core fed, cortex left alone.
Here in wastelands, in the dark
Night of the soul wanders aghast,
If ever will there be a smile
Clutch loosened even for a while...
From awful sights torments expressed
On solid days of nothingness:
Oh, that hood raw power indulge taste
Were lifted! kind forgiving grace.
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