I don't want to go out and face the world again. They are waiting out there to test me, with coy smiles and sweet violence. I'm sitting here alone, fragmented lights beating upon my head and soft notes straining thickly through the darkness. My eyes are dying in their new pouches and my body cannot assemble in time to complete a thought. My fingers are crooked and sharp, digging and gripping at everything. This is my fortress, or is this it? A new place to defend, but yet the enemies are flocking to the doorstep on a continuous basis. I tremble in anger and fright, and I long for the secure shell. Yet is not the secure shell they are invading? I have no peace of mind. I'm driven senselessly in the open. Loud laughter and voices are pounding like drunken men at the height of confidence in my head. Have I no say in this portion of land? Is it right for me to plow the land and not enjoy its fruits? This my punishment-to smile and to nod. Let me dance on this thread and lose my compose.
Then history will come to claim.
Then history will come to claim.
As I shiver in tense rigidity.

and quietly, You reached out and shook me ever so gently to remind me of Your promise to me.
Sweet Jehovah. My Lord Almighty.