My aching limbs betray me to myself,
Accustomed to this old bewilderment,
I have no concept of your interest,
And gaze toward an unknown figament.
This cycle is sealed by omniscience
Of time and fate and things that might exist,
Leave me alone I wish to sit this out,
This life, these games, immutable disgrace.
I belong to myself and I alone,
Can satisfy my needs and hates and in
Each sluggish hour I spend in this disguise
I lose a star of my integrity.