Thy vision is my disdain.
Not by yonder route\'s way
Canst I escape the terrain;
The sky is an ominous gray.
Endless pangs of degradation,
This enclosure is harrowing.
I am lacking in supplication
And stricken by a hollowing.
Despair looms in the air.
In misanthropic throes
The jaws of disgust are bare;
I am beset by cursed woes.
Naught is rendered to gain,
And loss becomes my kin.
Thy words become a stain,
To the innocent child within.