...sorrow...

Even in a room full of light, I cannot see.

Even my heartbeat is like darkness to me:

Pulsing with pain and agony,

Aching for some small semblance of peace.

My soul opens up, a blister of love:

rejected,

wounded,

lost;

Swelling within me, sincere and certain,

but there can be no more holding it in.

My soul breaks, raw and overflowing

Pain to which there is no end on earth,

Agony which breathes dust and tears,

Aching which breeds two kinds of men:

Those who rise to love and hope again,

And those who descend into the debris of humanity forgotten,

of humanity set aside,

of humanity without dignity, without hope--

Man without sense of Man.

My heartbeat rings softly inside of me:

Of the two, whom shall I be?

I know the one beside me

...My one companion is darkness...

But is my darkness the womb or the tomb?

The choice burning and writhing within me.

When once I have grieved,

whom shall I be?