When in the black I find respite from care
The kind that pours bland nothingness to brim
O’erflows the bonds up which we strung in prayer
Our arms outstretched to slice through fraying limb
Out on periphery of madness share
Sweet palm to palm in contact round we rim
While deep in black I dwell; confined by mine own snare
Although not my design, no blame seems clear
All fight of mine now sets upon the bier.