No words can quell
This plangent sound
That howls within me,
The mournful chiming
Of a stoical, little bell,
Entombing the last
Vestige of innocence
I still possess,
Like a tumour
You have poisoned
All that I am,
Down to the bone,
Now what remains
Is a wretched husk,
Detached from the light,
Deadened, ruined,
Lost.