TiredToiling and twisting, stabbing and cryingThis hour is rustic as I digest my painInnocence is taken hostage and eyes bleedingWhat can I do to depart from this rain?Closest to me is backing away from my sting,Ever doubting, ever wondering whyThe devil has held me tight, what else to bring?He says, "My orchid child, you must never die"!But here I remain still and ever cold of touchThe jaw of sticks drains my bloody holeAnd the heavy stones numb my heavy skullFrozen words driven deep within my soul. R.Williams