My bed is a cave, shielding me
from the sun which burns holes
in my heart. There I shall wait
for the soft illumination of the
moon, and stifle my urges to howl
into mere whimpers,
because such is my existence
The wondrous ground on which I
trekked only left my feet ripped
and shredded; the fantastic sights
which I beheld left my eyes
stale and tender
I wrote this a long time ago and it's always felt unfinished