My body lays still. Eyes closed. Shut tight. Light pierces this dark room. Never leave. What you can't see. Nothing but ceremonies now. Nothing but remembrances of how. Nothing but hymns to hear. Nothing but ignorance and fear. These wounds flex and tear, spilling forth rays so bright. But that light is dim. And it burns out quick. Finally, dark. Cold and stark. My mind obsesses about the end. I am a wound that refuses to mend. These thoughts weigh upon me. I am an insect plucked of wings. We all die alone. I'll stay in this place. A locked door. A life displaced. Free from grace.