You tear through a person ripping at their enjoyment stealing their peace denying concentration preventing rest seldom leaving from dawn you gather your forces until dusk in continual strikes not allowing any true rest causing anxiety by relentless bombardment of the emotions working your particular brand of chronic exhaustion from which there is no escape your terror is that of peaks and deep troughs each thumping to a tuneless rhythm that sounds in the ear to the beat of the heart relentless pursuit of your victim the knowledge of just where to strike next, occasionally teasing by withholding your power, giving false hope and then turning the volume of attack to its full capacity sending hope crashing and causing the brain to scream for ease, for release. Are you a weapon of vengeance? an arrow sent from on high? is that why people look up and ask what have I done to deserve this? not waiting for the answer. There can't be a god because he wouldn't allow me to suffer like this He would be good and kind and gentle so people create their own answers a god of the imagination who doesn't, who couldn't, who wouldn't, inflict such pain and cause such misery.