God help me
I really want nothing
Except for this pain
To expire
Like a bad dream
Always returning
But being awake
When it comes

While admitting now
Sleep never works
At relieving such fear
Still experienced
Except if that rest
Implies dying
Without even knowing
What hits

As doctors insist
Nervous hearts
Are reason enough
Behind torment
Causing these nights
So deserving
Since suffering means
Being right

Still excusing each twinge
Felt inside us
Or neglecting how truth
Too insistent
Appears through deep hurt
Purely physical
And mortally wrong
Left ignored

Seeing arrogant men
Always jealous
Of artists so free
They keep fighting
Before leaving behind
Honest wisdom
Admitting their lies
Never worked

Where beauty entails
Every evidence
Those medicines failed
Fighting nature
Knowing faith can’t abide
By rejecting
Our experienced ills
Very real.

• J. Pigno