Nigh is the hour of painful hemorrhage.
Though I hold fast in my fantasizing skull, scared of sleep.
For in waking, agony will find a home, the concept of sanity will drown.
To declare my defeat, a white flag I raise.
Reason explodes with my heart, a soaking red flag is lowered.
Contribution of moments past, exist as Universe reflects from the peak.
Visual hell reads in the code of what I have helped create.
Laughter interrupts as God masks a lasting grievance.
Love shall once again engulf this branch, off the core of strong oak.
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