You hooked my chest to drag me away,
And drag more lives away, to forcefully sleep
On beds made of thistles, just to hear us shriek
And maybe surrender to your realm of affliction.

Nonetheless I crawled out, and every night
I reach the brink where the line of woe
Seems to vanish and venture a trip to help me return…
Still, you wrench me back to euthanize my hope.