My Torment I see the windswept barrenness that swallows up my soul, And I wonder if this heartache is all I'll ever know. For all I do and all I'll be and all I ever am, Is fed into the hungry jaws of every common man. And even now, while pondering, this mindless, numbing greed, I'd rather die than to admit, I have an aching need. A want, kept hidden, covered, in the deepest, darkest part Of that lost place that most would call, my mind, my soul, my heart. I look upon the sea of life and shudder with despair, The crashing waves of faceless hate: they fill my soul with fear. The hungry maws that feed upon the weak and the distraught Are calling me to come to them, and almost, I am caught, They pull me down with grasping hands and outstretched hungry arms And lull me with their sweet caress and cunning, scheming charms. Now desperate, I look for aid, knowing it won't arrive, I sink down to the ocean's floor, now barely just alive. I feel the binding tighten on my weary, aching mind, And, tormented, I only wish I could go back in time. I'm struggling against the chains that bind me to this place And now I see the look upon my tyrant's lonely face. Behold the tears, and hear the moans, and feel the anguish there, I wish that I could comfort her, but no, I do not dare. That tattered, forlorn visage, that I cannot bear to see, Is the deserted and forsaken, isolated me! Ticia Baker