Small, round, yellow salvation;
Ease my mind.
Halt its frantic ascension
Before it reaches its crescendo
And all goes black.
But he bars me.
He blocks my path.
As I press on through the woods,
Brambles and burrs
Give way to barbed wire
And a concrete wall,
Like a slap to the face.
I am suffering,
I implore him.
But he refuses
To tear down his defenses,
No exceptions.
Anger boils, rises, then subsides
Giving way to despair.
Left to stew
In this frenzy of madness.