Wood Chip Boiler Maker

Psychopathology of delirium

not get used to pain,
or the anguish of the circular hunch my blood
or broken my lungs gasping that malnourished .

not get used to pain,
rigor mortis or the oppressor of my body alive.

My kingdom is helpless and beaten, poisoned,
as my whole being
that twists defenseless against the cruel attack
an absurd reality
a dream of smoke, fool,
a blind eye,
long slow suffering in vain.

I burial alive and bitter nightmares I can not die,
slaps me rage, fed myself,
humiliation hurts me, I see pride
and I spit in the face guilt belongs to me,
interred by my own fear.

I know losing

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