White noise. White noise. My pen stands poised. But the words don't come, every syllable I write Every word and every thought is an Echo. The tip of an almighty iceberg A scream unheard, a fight for the ages. And for every word I write, the weight on my head grows by a pound. Wages of sin Wages of loathing Wages of my black dog My constant companion My old friend. The jailer in my brain And I know eventually I shall break under the weight.