there is nothing in existence I can satisfy there is no kind of persistence that can pacify this constant need for more or restore the person i once was before there are no options - there is no substitute for the soul unable to execute anything, nothing without pain but through the suffering I will remain to continue the struggling-to feel the strain carrying round this weight on my brain it all being same, forever and unending my griefs looking like balls and chains in the light under Saturns ascending the stars brighten as the moon wanes to warn of the darkness impending