I am dieing on the inside because of my outside self. The man within falters, bows to whim of the nature, beast, and damned; even though shown his swineish way. Darkness hangs over me as it does night. Inside I snarl and fight for control but can not win. Light receeds into the black that covers my soul. Pitiable? Nay. I live to die and die each day for want of love of fortune of kind words to console my restless soul. Would be better to cease then to continue and yet finally begin. When days cry out of unspent youth, a cry louder then I can bear, I submit to no mans will and dissolve all unions.
Where fore will night not allow day? Will day ever break forth on the far off hill.
I beat myself in lamatation. Not so as for pity, for deserve it I can not. Only for the desire to be being and no longer working towards the wind. I put my face down now. Pray for all and damn myself. Knowledge is the key to setting oneself free yet chained I drown in the darkness.
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