I wallow shamefully
In stagnant words
Unwilling, to pry my limbs
From their homes
Of squalor and strife

I writhe on
Defiantly
As I sink into a servile night

Convening
With the merciless cold
With the starved and infertile ground

My cherished worlds
Were always fated
To dwell
In the binds of fear

To feed the inner villain
So he may spring
From the hull
Of my hollowed flesh

My dreams
Are but hopeless fodder
For an empty struggle
So juvenile, so lost