You torture me, my mind, my body, into oblivion. How can I face thee that rectifies me, speak to me a quiet voice, speak to me the whispers in your soul. Slowly casting the spells you sake to the fixation of a truth. A menace, lowly keeping a fright. Pledges of candor, a meager finding to a best. While the shameful lies I carve writhe and swiftly lean to a fuller path, I cry the ways I can exist. Why is the only pace to be a catch of the earth to be a hoax. Pity, little creature to know a ways her heart cannot feel. To know that the breath she breathes is her imagination, her desire to will the force of the evening to manifest it's calling. Placing words in her mouth you gild the meaning a front.