By Myself

_____In a brief moment of sanity, which passing left me hollow, left me alone, I saw the logic of my life led out into the darkness of time where I know no comfort shall again be mine, no voice, no heart, and I cried without tears for that brief glimpse of sanity. Now all that’s left to me is the madness of despair. All around me things die and are born, will be born and will die, and I, born, shall die. I know no hope. All life is dreary, but death is darker still.
_____I cry to God: The narrow way is suffering. None are beside me, and I, my only companion, detest myself. How I would sever from me; How I would hate me; But I am me. Why should I want another at the side of one I cannot stand? Why should I want someone to gather what I would throw out? If only I could be far from myself, I would not be, and not being, know no more despair.
_____And yet I’m told I’m not myself by those who once knew me, and I do wonder now, and wondering smile, if the jocund fellow they know will not return again, will not surpass this dreadful sanity, this stupid vision. Perhaps I’ll meet myself anon, and we shall then be friends.