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Overburdened, I can't let it get to me.

What am I to go with this "thing."

Locked within a tiny cage my human heart is impaled knowing the extremity of torture.

Hands bound together behind my back, hung on the ceiling

as the overhead fan spins me round and round.

My own masculinity is severely chopped off

leaving it limp.

Now I'm a eunuch in the air.

Dismembered hack and slash, continually by hatchet

dripping with blood.



But before I'd never submit to "it."

This thing inside me I fought it everyday;

my resolve was what kept me intact.

I was no quitter.

But now as I'm hung, this noose around me constricted neck,

in a jail cell remotely known to the outside,

I know now that whatever I did, no matter what solution I found, no matter how hard I tried,

it was more puissant than I.

It was all futile effort I've done.

The hope that kept me living is disappearing

comprehending bitter truth.

I'm slowly fading away, "dying," then I'm no more...