A dark force plays with abandon tearing apart your soul; you cannot admit that
your legacy is blackened and unripe fruit. Treading on it yields neither wine nor juice;
Bottled up, it festers into logic and reason that must needs be denied.
Assumption of superiority helps sooth the waters of turbulent reason while
The bile and fear lap at your toes, calmed only by casting your eyes towards heaven
It is a test you must pass, denying qualms, signs and portents, extinguishing candles lighting the path
Your hair shirt, your denial of the senses; as you cook and then bite into the sadness which you feed
to your child who inherits the fear and the pain wrapped in a bright shell of promise