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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


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