The head of Man from the shoulders falls.
As a species eventually, decapitated,
As a person I sleep and others abhors
for being I so loose of control,
not castigated!
Sunny side of the street of my shame,
thank you for your being there for me,
if not as a fact, as imagination,
hard rock of mental existence,
I thee reclaim, set me free of the past where I lay trapped.
Oh nimbus of my tainted sky, oh something that may appear and help in some way,
I fear the moment of succumbing. Nonsense over a year, fate at one only day.