A daunting contract binds me, cleaving my heart in two for my divided loyalties. Owing fealty to the noble King of Life while possessing an infinitesimal debt to Death, I am bereaved of my parent soul. The clutter of obligation is stifling, suffocating my joy as well as my pleasure. Any fortitude I once possessed concedes to my grieving word, ward to my solidarity. Where within the wind breaches then, my suffocated breath, so lurks too, my obligation. Always again the passing Bloods return, against me for my lucky purchase on life, a living death, beseeching my self-induced slavery to succeed in their envious causes. The Gods of every era increase my splinter, purging my insolvent spirit with more pain, foraging further for my shadowed will with tireless disregard. And who have I to blame but my insidious self, the only company retained remains in my reflection. It is for this, day-after-day and year-after-year, that I m condemned to this flesh and such an enduring self-loathing.
