Words from a Tortured Soul's World
"Untitled Work from 11/99"

And we go on these many nights, tugging back and forth for control
Searching for some medium that will turn it all for the better
I see now that there is none - no place of solace to contend our souls
No shelter from the storm we've created for ourselve
There is only me loving You, and You content to abuse that love
To push it aside as a common object
To subject the soul I share to your moods and whims
You expect that I can suffer through and be all the stronger for it
However, I weaken with each day
Becoming, finally, the meek of this world
Forever afraid to stand on my own.