He Begs for Chains

Choice confuses him
he chases after his tail
too often to find dreamless
sleep.

During the longest
days, he see the
roads of his soul
diverging, no low ,
no high path only
choice, satanic
choice pulling,
tempting testing
him.

This freedom hurts.
It's like a bubo pulsing
under his arm,
feels like hot shot
under his red eyelids
it steals his thoughts
like gentle sunlight
destroying silk.

At night hear's chain,
rattling like a dying man,
and find himself needing to
them - anything to rid
himself of this "choice".