VOL. XVI, NO. 3
NOVEMBER 8, 1974
Torment
By STEVEN FREY
A contortion of emotions form
As expressionless faces,
Reaching out, silently calling,
Flash past the windows of your soul.
Unaware, your body drifts, in search of the
Inner pursuits of your mind,
For the mind is what rules your being.
Yet, journeys from the soul are bitterly lost,
Their sunrise never to be seen,
Instead, beings, chained to their reality,
Slowly and mournfully build the walls ‑
Wrapping themselves in oblivion.
A contortion of emotions form
As expressionless faces,
Reaching out, silently calling,
Flash past the windows of your soul.
Unaware, your body drifts, in search of the
Inner pursuits of your mind,
For the mind is what rules your being.
Yet, journeys from the soul are bitterly lost,
Their sunrise never to be seen,
Instead, beings, chained to their reality,
Slowly and mournfully build the walls ‑
Wrapping themselves in oblivion.
