not for a crime, not for my guilt, only as payment for living. It forms an escape from the human perspective, but upon entrance it reveals and entraps us in death as it cannot here be known. For from death their is no relief, not the escape the human mind sees. Only pain, with life hanging in front, ungraspable, taunting. Like a lingering feeling, the wretched shard of life you hated, has become your only hope your dream and to think that it you hated. Now then, dost thou deserve that life which you so threw away upon its troubles. But just when it reaches your grasp, death pulls you further, further away. Jeffrey Hook back |