All night I have wept thru tempests of tears thru the drenching of drought I sit hunched in a river of my own sweat and gall I'm empty yet, if I'm empty why does my heart and mind and flesh fucking race in unending affliction and I'm full full of bitter dreams consumed by unknown destinations bloated on the cacophony of vomited syllables from which I daily take my fodder rules and roles guide no constrain every expression from within yet, it is by these very fetters that we rest in the capacity for the attainment of freedom and, yet, here truth and falsity engage in a copulative expression for always we will be free and always will we be slaves and so my flesh quivers longing to sleep longing to rest in the end, that's all there is so come, o rest, and take my life
and so my flesh quivers longing to sleep longing to rest in the end, that's all there is so come, o rest, and take my life