There was nothing within the mind of man
That didn't know what to do
With this great land
The hour is getting dark
With the chirping birds in stark
Longingly, she prays for rain
To abstain from love's fruitful venture
Is to deny the joys and
Miseries
Of life
Year one has been the hardest imaginable
There are no scapegoats
Only
Horror
Minutes tick through me like knives do through
Butter and
Bread
At last
I am free but shackled by insanities laugh
Is there something wrong?
Or am I just
Being?