Feeling a depth of despair inescapable,
an entangled mindweb is my dwelling
and my tongue tastes of bitter longing.

The face of my dearest is invisible,
our past strangles my nerves
and there is no solace for my weary corpse.

As if the spirit alone hadn’t trials impossible,
the body itself buffeted by strange human design
and my infinite love repressed for profit,

And yet still poor of coin, though afloat abiding,
it feels a meager recompense that lovely ecstasy decay
into solemn worldly agony on a whim of the cruel
human organism, which, pulsing sickly ever feeds upon
the precious energy rays of spinal wiring glow.

Were that my memory confined to a treacherous orb,
heavenly trust renewing promise could,
existing of a divine grace, reach with shining finger
and with healing caress clasp my cerebrum.

The problem of mind deepens with its contemplation,
that pain felt in wistful early days needs rise
to exponential torturous sufferings inexplicable which
enacts a new void of despairing tautology,
the awful perfection glimpsed by mortal eye
and tears as a waterfall streaming issue
of eternal found of misery.