Weary hours
Keep me in their dry chokehold
I heave and struggle
Battling their brittle clutches

Solitary moments
Are meant for breathing
To cradle hefty thoughts
And serenade them to sleep

The long drag of clockwise torment
Sullies my hunger
With the bread of past suffrage

I sever my mind
From the greater human strive
The isle of refuge
For everything I truly own