Quelling of the Souls
Cluttered obligations become pain and despair,
Routine working away at me with patience and care.
I lift my head towards the blinding fierce light,
Praying for the piece of mind and slumber of night.
Darkness to hide and keep me from truth,
A gift and a curse that accompanies youth.
This illness is rooted and has a devious plan,
To swallow and blot out the spirit of man.