"You do
Sleep,
Don't you?"
Dragging
The cross
Of your
Own making,
A thousand
Sins
Yammering
At your
Back,
Dawn's
Question
Catches you
Off-guard.
You stare,
Uncomprehending
At this slip
Of a girl,
Scourged
By her
Rage
As she
Calmly
Threatens
To set you
Alight,
One more
Reminder
Of what
You are,
Of what
You
Have done—
In injuring
One,
You injure
The many
As you
Shoulder
Your burden,
Yet
Another
Station
Passed
As you climb
Your private
Self-built
Golgotha.