Fickle is my mind
A constant battle for consciousness
To fight the urges that resonate primal
I measure my responses
Plan steps ahead
I withhold the needs of the soul
The darkness that paces the cockles of my heart
He yearns to escape
To fight
To sleep
To fuck
To feed
To exist
To damn the gods and spit in their faces
And waggle his tongue and thumb his nose
Caged and broken, but writhing with rage
One day
One day soon
One day soon he will come
Let us pray
Amen
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