Sick, glorious bastard, you are divine.

You drive a hard bargain, I feel no benefit

to where you forced me, strong armed, to sign

and the knot in my stomach grows, you are the bottomless pit.

You beautiful fuck, the distaste aimed at me

you were always there haunting me in the background

even when fallen upon hard times and on bended knee

you would steal my dignity away and silence my resistance with noise and sound.

Yet my dear darling bone aching disease

I whisper in your ear each night, fuck you please.

Get the Hell out of me oh invader of nightmares

alien parasite of whom little cares,

take your pills of relief and let me be condemned,

this way, the sign points out, the comfort of the end.

Ian D. Hall 2015