Why does the mind race across the inferno
into eternal despair?
Why (is it just me) does one feel
a tinge of guilt
for a supreme lack of care?
the mind (a curious body), an item
of passion,
logic pushes death into my affair.
Each passing moment needles
into my spine torment. pain is everywhere.
I seek
the truth.
When it comes I find the only fault to be
my mind in a snare.