No more early rising, nor late ones either. Body is of lead, digression is complete. God's child and man-made object are intertwinned: wrapped in sheet, head to feet. A once soft and supple vessel, with promising life, is now merely fodder for sorry tales. No natural causes at work here, but rather hope transmuted into despair. Please forgive me, for I know no other means. Throw the sheets up over my head, for there is no remedy to be found other than soft prayer. Please pray that God will forgive me, so that my soul may be embraced, that fear and pain may be left behind, that they be my only remaining trace. Please make my heart less heavy, that I may be bathed in your eternal light. End me now; let it finish, no more shall I be. Please dear Lord forgive me.
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