Great is the journey made

Great is the journey made

With little

Sign of gesticulation

Footsteps can lead astray

Without the will

To guide them

Ponder the poor boy

Sitting in arbitration

With demons

Tearing at his soul

Pulling this way or that

He bears the scars

Of a torment

Rarely seen without

The resolve to share

This reckless space

So easily transmuted

Into purgatory

Wrest him free

From internal strife

We are all subject

To this arcane practice

Self flagellation

Is never arbitrary

It has its antecedents

In an infant’s silence

After the meaningful scream

Went unheeded

Voices, in the deepest dark

Were but angered

At their own

Lack of opportunity

Mumbled incoherently

Through peeling walls

And ruffled counterpane

Sleep is such

An unholy alliance

How much is given

To the journey

So harshly undertaken

When the destination

Is not realised

Without an awakening

Sit with me

Together we may

Finally arrive

At an understanding

Of a road

So blithely traveled.