originally published at 01:39AM on Sunday, November 25, 2007

The room is hot,
the walls are wet,
My forehead’s drenched with salty sweat,
I struggle against rusted chains,
my body’s coated in regret.

With a loud creak
from behind me,
I scream in pain and agony,
a steel spike has sliced through my leg,
what greater pain can there be?

The spikes and stakes,
that run me through,
contain all the pain I ever knew,
all the guilt and the regret,
every awful, painful truth.

The poison guilt
bites into me,
driving me to insanity,
I sob and beg for sweet repose,
but pleading will not set me free.

Finally I
can take no more,
I scream out my confession,
the poison spikes of guilty store
recede for my redemption.