Inside this place, the light should never enter.
Lives a man, with a mind that is weathered.
This place of pain has plagued his soul and has him begging for the end. Sometimes this place is familiar, like talking to an old friend. The medicine has no control of the pressure, in there time has no measure. The pounding all through the night keeps him awake, sometimes for days. Any glimmer of relief is lost and he slowly decays. The low flicker of a dim candle shows him his dark place. Nausea and panic glued to his tired face. Water floods the pain place, hot but not enough to burn. Floating somewhere in the pool of steam is the man's hope. A lesson he had to learn. His pain made him see, the water would set him free. He closed his heavy eyes, deeper he sank into the warmth, his mind could rest and open the door. He laid down and his life began to pour.