A guttural scream builds and aches Like a mass in my chest, Pulling on the lungs And seizing my throat. I cannot speak... Must one be so heavy and worn? Must the days move so? Might I be the only soul Who feels confined to endless repetition? Curse this incessant, shuffling gait! Let the sun crust and grow cold! Let the Earth fall its course! Let the night and stars and endless space Take up this weary, tired flesh And turn it all to stardust Once more.