Such is the scandal that has become my conscience,
	I find scant respite from the confrontations with those
	who know I seek absolution.
	This nightmare, an awakening to a reality only a nip of
	something stronger alcoholic can make palatable.
	Languid and despairing I find the truth of the abandoning
	of my family and friends.
	An clear, inglorious reflection of my character.
	If violence is truly an obsession of our time it is a curiosity
	of sinister and callous magnitude.
	It is an sick habit of those who claim to be adults.
	Thought and its exchange is now an offense.
	It is the whine of the worlds children.
	In these lands where unbridled hatred is the weapon
	of the hypocrites whose self acclaimed genius strikes me
	as the final portentous saddening of a world made delirius
	where the lives of the downtrodden are without love,
	where the angels of my past leave me in the cold pallour
	of paranoia.
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