On a bed in fair mid-May,
Away from school, work, and play,
Lie a young boy devoid of joy,
Trying to break away.

It wrestled, fought, and struggled,
But fatal aims redoubled,
His iron will held them stock-still,
Neither could break away.

Motions were slow and fleeting,
Instinct and Will competing,
To end two pains in different veins,
Crumble and break away.

Strangling a blind reflection,
White-knuckling throats mid-section,
With fratricide, a part had died,
What's left to break away.

Downtown a young man stood tall,
Behind eyes, perturbing pall,
Lie a young boy devoid of joy,
Trying to break away.