This cold cold institution is wearing me down.
Like rushes of winter water eroding the bank.
Green leaves and bright flowers beg to remain,
but nature denies.

Nature is society.
Like a gazelle being hunted by a gazelle,
in a dry savanna, unknowing of its imminent death,
and then is mauled by the reality and cruelty that is natural order.

Torture, it is.
For me to wake up at seven in the morning to a ¨safe haven¨
Maybe it is a gate to heaven, because Lord knows im scared of dying there.